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Insomnia

Just as twilight covers a sleeping bridge,
with its overwhelming lustre, bit-by-bit;
insomnia hits me hard,
grows on me, inch-by-inch.
and I pass hours, days, months & years,
each single night.

It creeps from under my two heavy pillows,
and from beneath the aches of my tired torso,
and from throbbing, drumbeating temples,
to ask one crushing question-
“Who will leave now? Who will leave?”

Covered in a fervent loop,
sleep acts like a blurred labyrinth,
difficult to look at.
so I fill the silence with some random thoughts-
like,
his love for cauliflower,
her rendezvous with coffee,
and few other sundries,
which are as unimportant as this night!

So I picture-
there’s that misty smell,
some freshly cut grass,
some music- Scubert’s piano perhaps.
I sense all this and pat myself to sleep,
just when,
the Question with ten legs again stings my breast-
“Who will leave now?" He asks, "Who will leave?”

Perhaps this very thought,
seizes my forty winks,
every three-sixty-five days.

Comments

  1. Every dark night is followed by a day,
    the Sun rises and the darkness goes away,
    there is a hope, there is a scope,
    try n' believe and think this way.

    The answers you are seeking are caged in your heart,
    open it up don't rip it apart,
    hold him up and sail away,
    Because every dark night is followed by a day.

    ReplyDelete

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