I saw a super built castle in my dream,
In the corner of high-vaulted roof,
A spider’s optimism persists,
Weaving and weaving,
Many layers of the gossamer like web,
Spider is too good to visualize a broom
Behind the glassy window panes,
I see Diaphanous and Diligence
weave and weave together,
plums and cakes in a rich bowl of dish,
Victuals and viands and drinks in plenty,
Dystopian vision runs away, erased,
I hear something suddenly disturbing,
repeated knocks at my door,
usual septuagenarian, takes for granted
my good will, alms and chat,
I wake up to see my already
popped up bristles of broom,
my glen calls me with a counterfeited glee,
I sink my mood with the gloves
in the kitchen sink, to see the
Reality of piled up stuffs.
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