Sounds

By Nishtha Mishra

I lay down here each and every night,

For things unspoken and things I fright,

In this cold and lonely bed of mine,

Not 9 or 10 but past midnight.

I lay down here in sorrows and wounds,

I knew what lies ahead was doomed.

My eyes wide open but my heart still beats,

And the clock is ticking, it’s sound on repeat.

I hear a bang in repeated tone, 

Is it knock or a hammer? I don’t know.

It stopped so suddenly, my guts feel sore,

Then I heard a honk, it’s a train I suppose.

The clock stopped ticking, the time unknown, the last I checked, it was 1:o4,

The bed starts hissing, my mind is blown, the moment I remember, “I know this tone”

The clock stars ringing in a similar tone, but I had set no alarm on my phone!?

Then I wake up heavy and sore, I heard a click that wasn’t there before.

The clock starts ticking, it sounds more like steps,

My lungs still breathing but I feel so distressed.

The train didn’t honk, this way before,

Should I investigate? Should I ignore?

So I stay there still, rolling my eyes,

I trace every inch of the ceiling at height.

My phone starts beeping, some messages arrived,

But I don’t want to know, who or what came by.

I froze in that moment, my eyes were still,

My mind stopped thinking, my heartbeat nil.

My breaths were caught and so were my fingers,

Then it all stayed, time started to linger.

And all those noises came at me once,

But I couldn’t hear a sound, I couldn’t hear none.

And suddenly all vanished, then I opened my eyes,

The dawn had arrived after the longest twilight.

By Nishtha Mishra