By Yeamanur Khatun
We’ve seen and done the worse,
A homicidal worst – ’ve murdered the
Sleep, choking it to a somnambulist curse.
Each nightfall, midnight, dead-night or hour wee,
Drifting in n out – binge watching that Sisyphus screen.
Doomscrolling the display of fads - like one, narcos injected,
Posing faces or moves of figurines, clad in trend or carnival glean.
Now posting a dream – a curvy smile or a jealous grin. Next, the knitted
Brows on cringy memes or a storage treasure, a wrinkled forehead
As often the ‘Open Sesame’ doesn’t match the password clingers:
"What's in a surname?”, a pseudo-secular states, “Rather, embed
Designation prefix!” Then, a prompt fury as the hatemongers
Prop their monochromic flag: “Huh, Madness becomes us!
#Let’s share hateful harmony! Fight war-game in excess!”
Night tosses over chat-tanks, emoji-bomb n troll-cuss.
The mighty pens pass death sentence to all otherness.
At length, a subscribed sadness who purchased tear,
Follows sleep, vampire-rotten in its cloistered cist–
Unslept bodies lay maimed in opiate daze n fear,
Severed bits of flesh, clotted blood, rigored fist,
Death-pain, vessels twirling in blood-shot sore,
Gushing ichor, nerves clinging, brain-marrow
Shrinking thin against the skull-can, n wore
Tattooed panda in the eye sockets – narrow,
Gash oozes pastel-pus, muscles- deformed,
Twitch the evil hour of insomniac graph.
Afterward a postmortem was performed.
The autopsy mocks in prescribed epitaph:
Sleep received cuts and rips- visceral.
It was mobbed, lacerated, signed out.
P.S. It never received a decent burial.