Memories of a Dream

I stopped by the boundary wall,
Stopped and gazed at the crumbling brickwork
now reinforced, plastered and painted.
I knew what it was, inside –
Where the rotting hadn’t stopped.

Something blew leaves along its length.
The rain was pelting down
like bullets upon my coat.
Moss had overgrown the part
where it merged with the road.

And then I knew exactly what had brought me here.

Skybound remembrance; Pain of heart,
Walls that keep memories apart.
Concavities spanning many such lives;
Damp and green, Rusted knives.

Just like the dreams we see at morn;
The nights like long millennia-
telling the great sad epics of magnanimous length
give way to the mournful finale-

-and we wake up only to remember
the feeling of having been there –
the feeling of loss –
the feeling of having experienced
all the grief, all those emotions
are all that we are left with-

Staring wide-eyed at yet another wall.
A lone tear sweeping across the stretches
of our cracked and callused cheeks-
Emotions leaking here and there, shedding
flakes of nascent reality, floating down and away.

And such a memory of emotions
shook and rattled my addled brain
as I stood there crying, confronting
this mile-long wall – like a green Leviathan


from the depths of some vast verdant ocean :
I bathed in the rains of centuries of memories past-

I bathed in nostalgia.


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