Within The Sleep Poem by Aicha Mansoor

I knew not where I was,
Nor did I care where I was,
It all seemed like a dream,
A dream within a dream,
A distant figment of memento,
Buried in deep corners of retrospection,
Now given a new lease on life,
All displayed within my sub conscience,
Where mist was what I breathed,
And breeze was what kept me musing,
The trees sang along with the wind,
The wind that whispered hushed tones,
The wind that blew through my hair,
The hushed tones that hymned a melody,
Cherry blossoms swayed in the air,
Crimson, snowy, pink blossoms,
Every spirit was a song of ecstasy,
That enthralled my senses and soul,
Calling me ahead, tickling me to death,
Beyond the trees, I marched further,
Passed by the innumerable butterflies,
That blocked my pathway ahead,
But I kept on moving forward,
Intent on what was waiting for me,
Thirsty to know what lied behind,
That was luring me with such passion,
The leaves grew into coal pitch,
Cherry blossoms decayed into blackness,
The sky altered to an abyss of obscurity,
The butterflies evolved into wild ravens,
The desire intensified, onwards I moved,
Till I saw what lurked behind…
A tombstone just before a church,
As sinister as the funerary grounds,
The sweet scent of nectar and blood,
Calling forth, arousing my wonder,
And I began running forward,
Till all that was behind me faded to murkiness…