The Dream

                                     THE DREAM

Let the winged dawns dusky light

Answer for, my beloved, your plight.

Subjected to the caves of hopeless despair

Is every silvery sigh, every mortal care.

Success rewards few, yet beckons many;

Dreamers delight in its virulent company.

My love, the scars that are found,

Can be charged to your hungry heart’s lofty account

All your bloody cuts, weeping for repair –

Were given by the sword in your hand, that ‘Dream’ rare.

You did know this, when in that carriage of Want, you vowed,

That your Dream, by your treason, would never cloud.

You did know, my love, that for your Dream to realise-

            It shall take all you have – your lusty life.

                                                                                           Ananya Ajay Kumar