Dull Limbs!

Me, as a human being, is dull
My body parts are of no use
They are rather mundane
And I hardly refer them with their names.

Each night,
When the whole world sleeps;
Each one of them tries to wake me up
They writhe and score
And the bed sheet,
It mopes the bleed, silently.

The stain of blood and the sweat;
It smell trivial to my senses
And I continue to ponder over a dream.

A dull dream for a dull person!

My waking dreams and
Few talking wheels of the night,
They furnish my living aspirations and
I travel few miles more
Fighting for the limbs that I don’t know and
I observe few more genial events for my dreams.

My dull limbs,
They can’t see the pitiless depiction of life
Instead, they watched the blood stained sheets
And appreciate the misread in the stain.