Wednesday, June 1, 2011


The brown door creaked open
It’s hinges rusted from a long time ago
The hanging rope in a loop
Formed images of dread
In my head.

The ghosts of forgotten memories reawakened
And played their parts like professionals
The crooked steps gave away
To the passage of dread
In my head.

The vast white balcony opened up
To a solitary bulbul chirping but tense
To the cloud-covered peaks in the distance
The sun  showed its dread
In my head.

The towels hanging on the railing
Fight against the murderous breeze
The battle won and lost and won
The dancing stream beneath
Dreading the battle won
It’s thirst be quenched only by the towels overhead
Alas, It was in my head.

Ordinary things look ordinary no more
The sun a burning disk in the sky
The  flow of the wind a mutated cry
The feel of the breeze like ants sticking to me
The feeling of dread
Is all in my head.

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