The window creaks every night, <br />Yearning for that unknown being; <br />To come with love and pure delight <br />And life add to this useless thing. <br /> <br />So many travellers come this way, <br />Passing the threshold- thrilled and old; <br />To bargain and ruin, tinker and play <br />With something that is usually sold. <br /> <br />The vacant walls and murmuring fan <br />See my pain and oft protest; <br />And the mirror- like a decent man- <br />Closes its eyes before the zest. <br /> <br />My friends these are, childhood friends, <br />I have grown up watching all their face; <br />They have been with me while Fate offends <br />As I stay in this sordid place. <br /> <br />While my eyes retire to sleep, <br />I hear the window creaking again; <br />That ignites dreams- sweet and deep- <br />To get out of this world profane. <br /> <br />When will He come riding the breeze, <br />Clad with clouds, with a new dream: <br />And will flick all my tears with ease <br />And take me far along with Him.<br /><br />Debasish Mishra<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-whore-s-dream/
