When the plunge into the unfavourable air grips me with chaos
Time feels inimical and fleeting shadows mock for this foolishness
Night has trouble lifting itself from the from the dense dreams
In a wintry night, the clothes are dead cold; it embraces with icy fierceness
Even my bones feel shaken from the harsh plunge I have taken
It was not a pledge, but a firm push by the unknown hands
Time swerves unexpectedly and trounces my consciousness
Inimical perfumes linger around these unknown pastures of reality
Overpowering the senses, coercing them to be more willing
At dizzying heights, I feel the short-lived nightmare jolts the being
~Amitav
Good it’s short-lived.
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Thankfully.
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