Unquiet Dreams

Kesar Sarwara

My soulless soul sings in the pretty vale, 

My heart softly beating a tuneless tune, 

And though I find myself wrapped in tall tales, 

I sit ever lost under the harvest moon. 

All is silent by the gurgling stream, 

My thoughts lead me to places dark and strange, 

Across the water towards my pipe dream, 

Fear and fascination, both poised to derange.  

The warmth of a mother and her rough palms, 

The bank says “Let go of that gentle hand, 

join your sisters who sank into the calm”, 

Neither here nor there, stuck in no-man’s-land. 

Can I leave the cherished with no true plan? 

Will I find wonder or woe… Do I spy a man?  

Heed me, dear girl, such plans breed fear and joy, 

Each hollow as you follow your set course, 

Happiness in the known is but a ploy, 

But remains immersive, a pretty force. 

Across the stream the cities sing delights, 

A lute strums the harmony of the soul, 

In their alleys you may chase the moonlight, 

And untwine your kindred spirit; freed, whole. 

I see you every night tickling the stream, 

Wondering, pondering, do I dare? 

Your legs catch on the tendrils of moonbeams, 

Tripping backwards to the safe, you’re ensnared. 

Come dearest, must you premeditate all? 

Revel in the chance to leap and fall. 

You aberrant man, you perverted man, 

How long have you spied me despairing here? 

Of the joys you describe I am no fan, 

But before those lights, a moth and a deer.  

Worldly delights I cannot imagine, 

The portraits you paint inspire a foreign thrill,  

But for my drowned sisters I don this skin, 

The one that saves me from my free will. 

I yearn to leap across, indeed I do, 

But I deserve neither hope nor wonder, 

Under that current my sisters turned blue, 

And jaded is my heart, my mind asunder. 

So tempt me not with your bewitching charm, 

Your stories don’t sway me, put down your arms! 

I mourn the ghosts of your departed smiles, 

These arms remain stubbornly open for you, 

That bashful simper, how it beguiles, 

Depraved curiosity grows anew. 

A nymph among goblins, a wren among crows, 

You are the sweetest fruit in this forest; 

Touch that water with more than your toes, 

And offer me across the stream, your wrist. 

Allow me to pull you from home’s embrace, 

And take you to lands of fanciful dreams, 

There will you find in your heart the space, 

To replace apprehension with esteem.  

Close those doe eyes, don’t think about home, 

Leap across, the wider world shall we roam. 

You seduce me, you enrapture me so, 

For the first time in my life my mind is still, 

I don’t want to deliberate my woe, 

So I will trust you, strange man, and ride this thrill. 

Now I will leap without delay or ado— 

—Catch me, pray, I am a burning fireball! 

New world, perhaps I am worthy of you? 

Your arms are soft and your musk smells like fall. 

Let me teach you a lesson, silly girl, 

About what happens when you leave your nest, 

Hyenas swarm, vultures overhead swirl, 

Poised to eat your innocence, hunters jest. 

May my dagger in your breast impart some wisdom, 

May you join your sisters in death’s kingdom. 

Incubus! Hunter! I bleed and I bleed, 

I bleed my unworthiness in scarlet beads, 

I bleed my premeditated plans and greed, 

Freer than I would be across the stream, 

I shall sink into the ropes of duckweed, 

Until I rest with my sisters, pay heed 

To the truth that, dear hunter, you have me freed 

From the shackles of myself, I humbly concede– 

The moon is benign before our bloody deed. 

Read more from Restless...

Explore Arc