An obstacle removed in my dream.

My drooping eyelids close,
as the gatekeeper closes the main door
unwillingly, for he is a good Samaritan too,
some more last arriving inmates,

Yet, Tomorrow came into my dream
removed the thistle of yesterday,
A static car from the garage came out,
weaning out the rust and dust,

Thank God, I removed the thistle, else
It would have pricked my soft foot,
Who knows it would have pricked many,

My dream itself a fiasco,
A flimsy gossamer, a diaphanous
film torn into erasable segments,

I woke up to see the sun shine,
Somebody was already bleeding
for the thistle has already pricked up.