Don’t Wake Me Up

Don’t Wake Me Up- A pencil sketch by me.

The stars outside are still dancing
at the tune of the drunken moon
peeping through the window at
my drained body weary of the
malevolence flashing in the
eyes of the so called innocents;

The tick-tick of the broken clock
contrastingly lying peacefully on
the side of my sympathetic bed is
still convulsing my brain freighted
with unspoken unheard thoughts
wanting the silence to fade them;

The demon in his phantom glow
hasn’t yet howled its wonted
lullabies of the slithering night
inviting him to invade my mind
and to cover my consciousness
with his brooding profundity;

The softness of my merciful pillow
hasn’t yet soaked all the tears of
the love lost amidst the doubts
and the memories from the past
appearing as dark as the night sky
secretly spacing them in its infinity;

Living within my own complexities
my unfulfilled incomplete dreams
blurry or vivid in the darkness
perfect or imperfect in meaning
that I save for these silent nights
haven’t yet whispered their song;

Above all,
Reflective of the pensiveness
the words falling down from
the vaulted heights of my mind
into the warmth of the quilt
haven’t yet marked down the
last verse of my unheralded
nameless poem of tonight;
so keep out, shut the door
and don’t wake me up
for the night is still in its
leisurely contemplation.

-Kritika Vashist