Dead On Arrival

Short and sudden discomfort

I must decide

Raging insufferable thirst

Durable and sour like fresh fruit

Neither water nor wine could vanquish it

... and then it comes...

Dreaming about...

Dreaming about dreams of reality,

Or vigilance about dreaming... ?

My skin is contracting and swelling

This makes my hands unable to be kept still

Ripe poppies in mountains of Laos

White hair phantom - half man and half ghost

As a portrait of goddess with denuded bust

Necklace made of golden poppyheads

Girls start playing the flutes

The first is beautiful and georgeous

The second is tempting and charming

The third frights me and whispers somewhat in my ear

The fourth kisses me, but she tastes like crown of thorns

She denudes unawares

This vision is so real

Touches me, fondles me

Shutting my eyes tight, is this just a dream?

I know it is not!

I wonder where do my thoughts belong

Everything looks so bright, so clear

Everything is simple

At least this time

Like butterfly in chrysalic

Resemblance accomplished by metamorphosis

Open wide a window for this time

Until it is colsed again

And the punishment for this determination will take it's turn

The window is closing

And the dark is all what is inside

The Mother of Happiness, The Mother of Doom

Glittering in the glass of wine