Bunch of hands
When she began this journey
scarf she carried was stark white
she caressed it with her soft pink palm
spread it over her bed and lied down
she spun dreams with future embedded
in simple pleasures of a rich life
as she moved arms
open her eyes wider
her posture defined all that came to her
love, lust, pleasure, water, sand and some flowers
then one day all was wished
wished away by one thought
a single thought
never ever occurred before
thought which set sails of life boats
saved lives of millions afore
but this one time
she needed to know
will it save her from decline
she waited till it happened
she waited sitting upright
on her four-poster still intact
sitting on her white bedspread
stained now with bleeding dreams
soaked like a wet rag
there she sat feeding lost dreams
making them stronger
with blood running in her veins
every one of them was shining bright
looking at her with soulful eyes
then she saw that bunch of hands
sown on the floor of her room
they had all come out now
crop was immense
all of them each one with veins protruding
covered with mud of passion and might
her lowered head felt proud for very first time
she picked up her dreams
folded them in a neat bundle
held them close to her bosom
and walked away in search of
her own life
a new horizon with half moon
but stars bright!
