In Praise Of Nightmares !

Lost lyres, and in their meters
I wake up in their nightmares

They have heights and depths
And menacing distances
Where they curl up riddles
Of your lies, your own wishes

They have oceans and tides
Where they sail away your anchors

They build your homes
Which you deserted long ago
And chain you in open skies

They have own vaults
Where they lure your memoirs
And they cloak you for carnivals

They will hear your voices
But imprison in the nether lands

They will show umpteen faces
But will return with your scars

They crawl beneath your mattress
And sting your unborn cells

When you wakeup
They will wed your sweat
With latent thoughts
Their flowers from vivid gardens

Even when they rot
In your daily chronicles
They love your submissions

When your nerves bleed
They pile up and prey for them

They bid farewell
In your perspirations and cowardice

When you dare not to bleed
When you care not to die
When you spare your lies
They travel for you
Unknowing the miles
And carry your dirts
And white your eyesight

Whatever they say
No matter what they do
However they last
Wherever they take me
I love them
Because I live in between them ...