Requim of a lost Dream!

My silence and the darkness ahead
I feared, what if I looked damn for a demon
In the dark, without a word for the soul
Standing in silent vicissitudes and
Ever approaching living dreams,
Like a staccato in a rhythm
In some wintry evenings
All bleak and hoarse, and
My being came to a halt
In audible screech…

And, My friends,
They proclaimed of a dream
And the dead song, unequivocal
Of the dream, dreaded feared, for
A requim in the dawn, of
Some late risers, like
You and I…

Then,
Every one of us
In my silence
Called me a dead poet;
But did we know
I was long dead
Even for a dead poem
That I recite in our numerous graves!

Forgive me my friends
I did tried to weave few dreams
But it seems
We are singing songs of dead
Evermore!