I believe I saw a sphinx.

He stretched over his heels 

eyes transfixed at a door,

mine also

I stood in front of it

hieroglyphs were engraved on it

here I could understand it

and it read;

“The volatile prose of a poet’s hand is dead.”

When I looked back,

the creature was gone

like gun powder shot from a cannon

I slid my body through the creaking door

and found myself in a courtyard

long as my eyes could see

I met a girl there

she said to call her Bianca

She had cherry lips and green eyes

She was  pretty too

yet the most interesting thing 

Bianca could walk on walls

she giggled and motioned to me

coaxing me to do it

so I tried

and fell once, twice, seven

till I found my footing

I followed Bianca on the walls

then we came to a door

Neon,  impossible to miss

I went through it

and Bianca waved goodbye behind

everywhere was dark there

I heard a soft giggle

it came from an old lady

she had a quilt and knitting needles on her thighs

then she turned her back to me

I could only hear the klick-klack

of her opposing thumbs

and I went closer to her

her hands were as cheerful as her spirit

on her quilt bore words which read;

“looks can be deceiving”

immediately I felt a hurricane

before my eyes,  the lady began to crack

she fell apart like a clay jug

pieces of her laid at my feet

the earth shook again

everything was toppling in the air

and when it stopped

I saw a broken door

I pieced it’s part together like a puzzle

and jumped through it

The light on the other side blinded me

it was though darkness found me

no matter how I tried to escape

I dug into my pocket

and pulled out an handkerchief

the one my mother told me 

to take everywhere I went

I tied it around my eyes

and began to feel my away through

for the most part I felt nothing

then my hands touched something;

hard, smooth built

marble maybe?

I couldn’t make out the figure

and while I hurriedly rubbed my hands

I felt something else

warm, pulsating. Alive

It had a face 

what human could see here, I wondered

He grabbed my arm

I heard an agonising buzz

In moments, I would screech in pain

my voice resounded in the estate

I yanked my arm away

but he was stronger

he latched on even tighter

any harder and my bones would be crushed

So I stopped resisting

I let him drive the needle into my arm

when the buzzing stopped

he wrapped my arm in warm linen

and guided me across the foyer

with my one good hand

I felt for a door handle

he released my hand, stepping back

and with my last shred of dignity, I screamed;

“Before I leave tell me, what are you?

the silence and my lack of sight

caused me to believe he was gone

So I  went through the doorway

As I slammed the door with much regret, I heard;

“I am one less thing than you”

I  released my eyes

I could see mostly shapes

I hastingly unwrapped my arm

but couldn’t make out the words on my skin

then I heard an organ

it filled the space with  eery music

the music had a mellow and comforting element

at the same time, it sounded belligerent

like the only reason it was calm

was to provoke torture at the end of each note

and just when I was at the brink of insanity

it became beautiful again

I wanted to get out, yet wanted to stay

Finally, I decided to find the musician

I searched every cranny til my feet bled

there was no musician

there was no organ

there was just me floating in space

with severely blurry vision

and a tattoo on my hand

As I looked for the exit door,

I heard a sly voice; “Do you like it?”

It was the Sphinx.

“You speak! no, it’s driving me crazy”

“Fantastic”, he said, “but you should sleep.”

‘fore I could counter, my body became overwhelmingly heavy

I was falling towards the ground.

As my head hit a surface, I jerked out of  bed

I was awake.

whilst trying to recount the details of this dream

 I felt an ever so slight tingling

on my non- dominant arm

pulling up my sleeves, on my wrist was the tattoo

One word,


2 thoughts on “Glorious”

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