Priyanka Singh

 RECURRING NIGHTMARES 

Waking up perplexed

a heavy shriek of death.

Ploughing through the dreams,

a field full of nightmares.

 

So weary, so confused,

the body, tiresome like a shriveled worm

or an unborn child inside the mother’s womb

Begs for repose – a preposterous demand,

The mind that cowers the dreaming that is deadlier

       Some saplings of nightmares grow a lethal flower 

that frightens,

that chills,

that poisons the soul

others grow the deadliest of them all,

The beguiling sweet nectar called hope.

 

A loud whisper of an altercation, 

sometimes the body does win.

The mind yields - an inevitable bane

Minutes later,

I’m awake in a pool of sweat 

and fright 

and death.

And well, there’s that debate again.

          ***

  From my upcoming collection

'The Poet's Narcissus

NOTE: STRICTLY NOT MEANT FOR FURTHER DISTRIBUTION OR SHARING ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT CONSENT.