Strange Dream

The sharp sting that pinches through the pelt,

Likely getting sick,

That drowns us in a grand sleep,

Large clouds of the dusty wind,

It blows through as waves crash beyond,

Stars that shimmer throughout the day and night,

They slowly relocate under the seas,

Midnight boat reappearing to the top,

Crashing into the waves that repeat their schemes,

Time passes after that one night, it touches,

Under the stars, it has lifted them carelessly,

Before the dusty wind could have drove them away,

And stopped their piercing journey through there,

The sharp sting has gone too far into the midst.

(Strange Dream, by Sarah Shahzad, May 2020)