Dreams . . .

Dreams Dreams Dreams
Some monochrome
some rainbows
it pokes me and stir me awake
sometimes I stand
a midst the crowd
chit-chats of people,
shop-keepers bargaining
and someone dragged me.
I reached a glass house
a baby cries for me,
who am I to the baby?
The house is filled with antiques
Bronze, the familiar colour
the papers,clothes,-- people
bear bronze in them.
A bronze man pulled me
where has the baby gone?
sunlight came in red,
was the glasses red?
Then I see myself running
it was me who has turned red
There was cuts and bites
which had a pinch of bronze in it

I ran and ran towards
my blue in the rainbow
Blue was my colour
or rather it was dark blue
or as people call it-- Black
Yellow, orange, red makes me bleed
its the monochrome I'm attached to
I found solace in dark
It has eyes,ears,mouth,nose and limbs
and it engulf you into eternity

Dreams Dreams Dreams
Never leave me to reality . . .