Sometimes, I wake up at lone nights,
Scrutinizing the sky,
Full of stars,
And miles between them.
Sometimes, I feel poetic,
What yet is to be done in life.
I walk through my domicile,
Here and there,
Up and down.
Sometimes, I sit at the balcony,
Watching the dogs play down,
With cute little pups.
And waft my buoyant projections of my palm,
On the cool railings,
Where the water droplets stagnate,
After a deluge.
These showers are disobedient, I say,
They come, they go,
Destroying the poor man’s house,
Who, even to have one meal in a day, works for long hours.
And every night in my sleep,
I wake up,
Fall into an abyss,
Abscond through crevices,
To Neverland and Atlantis,
Hogwarts and Bermuda triangle.
I have witnessed immortal warriors,
Kissed lovely women,
Genuflected before them,
Unraveled mysteries within seconds,
Rode the fiercest dragons,
And when the cock crowed,
I saw it was morn.
I wake up from my bed stretching my limbs,
Thinking about the dreams I had.
Still I say,
Sleep is a ticket,
And night is the journey,
To the other side of life,
Where nothing is true, nothing is false,
Where the smile of the sun is all enigmatic.