When  I was a toddler

It came to me with ease.

Later  it was aligned   and timed

To meet home works assigned.

And as youth crept in

for overworked muscles it became,  a boon   

Yet frivolous  youth wasted it to  croon 

And now when worldly chores

Do not worry me anymore

Sleep I find in a distant shore.

Yet I earnestly  approach it  , to take refuge

From the shrieks and cries

Which   inundates the mind

Of thousand bleeding bodies

In clashes of identity , left behind.  

Zealously,   I attempt to sleep,  to shut off  

 the howls and moans  of  children  in grief.

But even there the ghosts of annihilation  in their bloody  attires invade 

and of  the quintessential sleep I am deprived.

Waking up to a ghastly reality, I bid farewell to sleep

Asking myself ,do I deserve to sleep ?

So I  sit down with paper and pen and  build a romantic dream.

For now I have learnt to rejuvenate and find respite

In characters of love whom I define.

5 thoughts on “Sleep

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    Whilst in all other respects a perfectly good meditative piece , the line:-“But even there the ghosts of annihilation in their bloody attires invade ” does rather unbalance and throw the rest of the work out of kilter whilst adding nothing to the preceding narrative thread.


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