Before I Dream

By Harshita Mishra

In the night, 

the cold, the chilling sound of breezing pride 

is sucking my soul that was made to unwind the mystery of this lifeless time.

A ride back to the peaceful night 

I had when I was a child

no it wasn't good but it was fine

Was it a dream? Was it a lie?

Like the people of this time tells me 

in the name of friendly advice 

I want to be all,

the first rain after a dreadful summer,

the snow at the beach,

a mystery of beauty,

and an endless sky

But how does it matter if I am none but some ashes left from the cage I  was put inside.

They say we are meant to be broken by the law of time,

it teaches us it makes us cry

and I know that by heart because a little bit of pain of every learning is still peeping through the cracks of my mind

But people who claims to know me

do they even know the colour of my eyes 

no they are not black , not brown 

It's a colour of misery , it tells a crime.

I try,I try,I try 

to write down all the wrongs 

and this time I don't try to make it right 

I sleep with my nightmares singing lullabies 

I believe a shelter to all

is a home to none

that's why I live in a home 

whose door opens when I close my eyes.

By Harshita Mishra