The Dream-Makers

I'm locked up here
for thousands of years
in a solitary cell;
I'm tortured for nothing
when i am awake
with some fuckable;

A mass gathered afar
a distant light glows
a bit bluish a little yellow
I'm still in my shell
lisping my mother's lullabies.

If I get myself free ever
in a wintry evening
with a mouthful praise
for this earth and hell
Perhaps i could dream
with eyes stuck out
towards the dangerous.

by amitava mazumdar

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