Where sluggish solemn dreams reside,
Past the dream catcher’s teeth,
That rattle on inaudibly
Between the shadows
and the soul
The mysteries lurk
uncontrolled
From bold the lies to
colder truth
Nothing is ever
understood
O in the shade
of hung despair
The silence shrouds
and stands and stares
A whiff of careless
times gone by
Invites the whims
to multiply
Till at the close
eyes weary rest
Ashes to ashes
jest to jest
– Akanksha Gupta
The Pluming PoeTree 