with the blood of my mood
I break
Hundreds of ribs
Of my dreams
To build the pillar of my argument
On the dead bodies of my wish
Against each and every
Failure and defeat
These are kept
In the shelf
I do not know their utility
But in forlorn time
When medicines fail
To heal my sorrow and pain
I open them again
I tenderly touch them
And feel proud
As they are the children of my mind
At mid night
When reflection of life kicks in
And sleeps fly
The wolf of silence roars around
I take shelter among them
And they protect me as of my best friend.
The things, I feel
The most,
Life goes by so fast!
And yet,
You seem to last
Sustaining me,
Perhaps knowing
It is you,
I love the most.