In Abstract Realms of Insomnia…

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measuring incessant drool
of an abstract hourglass
and skittish flight
of nimble steed-hands of clocks
in muted gasps of gaping night’s chasm,
I dwell over realms of insomnia
haunting lethargic eyelids
cursed with eternal vigil.

in ambiguities of nocturnal silences
float echoes of soft rustles
serenaded by garrulous foliage,
in vague lexicon
symbolic of crooned lullabies,
whispered fluidities of cricket’s songs,
hooted calls of elusive owls,
harsingar desires blooming in secrets
under volatilities of moonlight
and crumpled reflections of moon
palmed by somnolent lakes.

night is like
liquidity of sinuous river
trailing over parched quietude
salted in stardust sequins,
it nurtures exotic orchids of dreams
on its obscure banks of consciousness.
night is like a young lad
his pockets full of sparkling marbles
reminiscent of cosmic bodies,
or like an unsolved mystery
draped in fluorescence
of gypsy fireflies, taunting shadows
with the phosphorescent obscure.

within dogeared albums of night
I discover sepia wordings
of stories told in my moonlit childhood,
candles burnt in cramming
on eve of torturous examinations,
festive moments still reverberating with
the noise of crackers long dead,
novel poured over in the beam
of torches in adolescent intrigue
and pillow fights indulged
in at bedtimes with childish laughter.

it is a dark chasm within which
hide dove feathers, old gramophones, fairy tales,
splintered giggles and murmured gossips,
and today I yearn for sleep
on frayed edges of hope’s susurrus
within which I seek to lose
the lingering smudges of a weary day.

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