I wonder if dreams are just dreams, or dreams are omens. So far, they are fine.. But sometimes, I do get such dreams that scare the hell out of me, and I wake up in a cold sweat wondering if that’ll ever come true. Sometimes, that same dream recurs as well…
The poem, written in “Free verse”, for the thirteen words given by Brenda at The Sunday Whirl wordle, for Week 276 at Sunday Scribblings, where the topic is Captivate, and for Poetry Potluck’s 44th week where the theme is Poetry inspired by a Painting or Image. Accompanying image from THIS SOURCE.
From the deep flaps of the dead jungle,
The music resonates; drum beats and trumpets
In reverence of the celestial queen,
Pristine in her white gown, divine to all.
Alluring is the rhythm of their dance,
I watch on, captivated by an ominous fate,
Seen yet unseen from the balcony of a tree;
Try to convince this is just an illusion,
In the voids of my heart, I know it’s not,
It is a pantomime, their silence echoes as
I observe the last sun rays that stay forgot.
As the light turns emerald under Her glance,
They shall jostle for priority, first chance,
Bonds broken, but remains same a stance,
For I’m the blessed meal they have sought,
A pig for slaughter that they have brought;
Far away from my shouts, I awaken,
Yet I know it’ll return, they always return
For one more, for one final bone dance..
© Leo 18/July/2011