I found this poem in my closet, i had written it a long time back.
One day, I saw, a ghost I was,
Out from my body, the wasted mass,
Staring at it, in a deserted place,
Left to decay, or feed the animals, in case,
That weight of mystery, giving me the thrust,
To search my body, in disgust,
In the sea of mystery, I found no boat,
But o yes! In the clutched fist, there was a note
Tightly it was held, by dead, no weak,
That bloodstained parchment, looking bleak
I used my might, the ghostly power,
To free that paper from muscular cover,
The trees rasped, clouds thundered,
Frightened, I fell, I looked, I wondered,
What is this secret? The body’s treasure?
As if deriving intense pleasure,
My curiosity overpowered my fear,
Why, to the dead was a paper so dear?
I went again, too close, to see my face,
That satisfied expression, that glow, that grace,
Then I saw that note in the hand,
Ah! That part was so mystically grand,
Relaxed this time, again I sat down,
Fastened to the note, to snatch the king’s crown,
I fell again, but when my hands, I felt,
That paper was there, with joy, I could melt,
I looked again at that bleeding piece of earth,
So grim now its face, satisfaction’s dearth
I read the note, then turned to see,
Those dead eyes alive, staring at me
A flash, a blast, darkness, the dread,
I jumped to realize, I was on my bed
I had been dreaming all along
What in the world, with me was wrong?
I was panting, sweat blurred my vision,
So real was that dream, creating confusion,
I looked to find nothing around,
No note, just was there, my heart’s sound
Recollecting the snaps, I closed my eyes,
To open it astounded, true it is, no lies,
Those carvings on the paper, with blood, I remembered,
My handwriting, my mind, I tethered,
Tears eyes, I saw it all through,
In it was written, ***** I love you…
