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A Song for You and I

Daydream #9

By A. N. G.Published 4 years ago 1 min read
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Dry heaving in a ditch somewhere up north where sunlight is a distant memory, and stars lie forever unseen. You hope the rain will wash away the sins of yesterday, but it has been pouring for forty days, and you are yet to be cleansed. Promises made on eves when emotions were elevated begin to dwindle into nothing as the pressures of habit bring you back to where you started.

Mercy, mercy; save me from myself.

The distant sound of a fog horn echoes in the abyss as a lonesome stranger staggers through familiar streets on bent knees. The gulls squawk and screech on white wings, prophesying the end of times that does not seem to come soon enough. Haunted hounds pant at the thought of a black pudding supper, but even I have doubts about the legitimacy of those fantasies. I make an offering to the ancient gods of these lands, and go on my way.

Mercy, mercy; save me from myself.

The taste of flavourless fruit lingers at the back of my throat. I wait in silent contemplation as life changes around me; morphing into geometrically impossible shapes of mammoth proportions. This is all nonsense, really. But the images presented portray a certain rendition of inner struggle that does not seem to resolve itself. Of course, such things never do. Thus, my thoughts return to you, the one who has become my constant companion throughout all of time and space.

Mercy, mercy; save me from myself.

You breathe in at last, but something seems off. Am I dreaming of you, or are you dreaming of me? It does not matter, I think. All the images and sounds and emotions blend together and form an unintelligible mush that seeps through the cracks. Nothing remains but the hovering seagulls, and the hungry hounds, and you and I. I see you, my friend. I witness you at your most intimate moments when your heart sinks to your groin, and your mind races with memories of past traumas that you have been pushing aside all your life. This is a song about you, so sing and dance in the mists of a better time, and know that I will always be there to play you a dandy tune.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

A. N. G.

PhD Student, writer, researcher, a book addict, and a day dreamer.

Edinburgh - Cairo

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