Phantom Hands

A long phantom hand held my head
And kept on pushing through the pillow
While I was pressing the thoughts by my eyes and nose

It was semi dark, when angled arm took its shape
Taking no clue of what and why
The hand severed itself from the body sloth
And changed the head clutching my hairs

It was booty of old wisdom
That kept me awake the whole of night
And the phantom hands took to spade
To unearth the richness from my grey cells

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