The Nightmare
The nightmare
The days pass anyhow
But the sluggish nights move
As serpentine ways mount
Through dark grooves
Slowly, inch by inch
Leaving me lurking,
In the oblivion
Hounding like a wild dog
The twitchy ambiance
Anxious of
Missing lure of tender arms
Pricks my conscience
And hurts my consciousness,
Like stifled nipples
By the warm touch of lips
Do on one’s bare breast
Till the patches of moon
Through the lone window
Into my bed room
Bring with them
Your tender caress
On the burning blisters
Of my solitude
And patting gently
The crater of desire
That waits for the pangs
Of my lonely heart to subside
And causes me and my solitude
Both of us to go for a long sleep
In each others’ arms.
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