And again it happened,
The backwash of my uncooked rumination,
Become the cause of
my half baked dream impression.
Neither be it utterly forgotten,
Nor completely remembered.
Blurred figure of my blue eyes,
Blinking with weight
Of death of the inner life.
Surrounded by some evil creatures,
With the sound of their evil snicker.
With no faces and no identity,
But filled with immoral laugh at my agony.
A part of lost yet familiar melody,
The rhythm of some lost harmony,
Trying to bud out,
But dies within their diabolic shout.
Who are these critters,
Why are their laugh so iniquitous?
Why my eyes are bereaved,
Why my reflection started to deceive?
Why can’t my dreams be stitched?
Why do they fall away like November leaves?
Why are they scattered so wide,
Where do their fragments hide?
My partly remembered and forgotten dreams,
Imprinted the sense of deep torment,
Though this is just an imaginary pain.
My conscious is still struggling,
Within my subconscious being.
My eyes are still seeking,
The piece of my forgotten dreams,
In the Echoes of empty circle
Embedded in my asleep being.