Dreams On Fire Poem by nithya raghavan

I am sleeping,
under the sand,
of the grey sky,
all my dreams,
have been burnt like,
logs of wood on fire,
I am left to gaze,
at everything with,
an open mouth.
All i can do is,
just pour my emotions,
on my famished dreams,
like clouds that,
pour rain on the parched earth.
I crawl to find,
if there is hope,
even little hope,
that dangles by the ear,
of a grey cloud,
like a white lily
that swims on,
the edge of a pond.
My dreams which i,
clung on so closely,
like a second parent,
had been seen buried,
on a snowy night,
when snow flakes,
looked like frozen tears,
that gently fall from,
he eyes of the sky.
Even the stars,
which clung on the moon,
on its journey through the night,
stopped blinking the faint light,
which usually gleams in their bodies,
like petals of flowers,
that change their colour,
reading through our moods.

All that which i spent,
years building, to
appear like a monument,
that glows bright,
against the black night,
that splashes its colour,
from the paint brush,
to patch up other colours,
seem to be slowly,
fading, getting itself,
carried to a river,
that glows like a black tar,
waiting to pull inside,
all my dreams, that
i built, easily, like,
castles in the air,
on a misty morning.
I am the poet,
who allows her verses to flow,
against everything that is,
deaf to her, whether it is,
stones splattering against grounds,
or my own soul pounding,
to rush out into the gushing wind.
Even my misery,
that is a black figure,
against a white stage,
is limp, unable to dance,
around the fire,
that continues to cackle,
as my dreams go into ashes..................