Illusioned

That night, I saw a dream.

It pierced my soul like a shrill scream.

I was jerked awake to see the reality,

By the rivers that flowed from my eyes.

It had all started beautifully.

It had all started still.

As I had enjoyed peace and love.

I found myself back home then,

As someone seemed to call.

An old lady she was.

I want to come in, she said.

But each time I tried to let her in,

She seemed to disappear.

A triumph it was for her,

When she entered through the window.

She smiled sweetly at me,

Which instilled in me a fear unknown.

She walked toward me.

I was hysterical now.

I searched around, a blade I got.

In case, I thought to myself, I needed a weapon.

She was now almost touching me,

Her eyes full of evil mirth.

Trembling, I stabbed her thrice.

Expecting her to fall,

I prepared myself to face a lifeless body.

Yet she stood standing there,

Eyes full of that mirth.

I staggered, I ran.

I called out to people, but the world seemed empty.

Until I saw the ghost of my forefather,

Who had come to protect me from this evil unspoken.

He was sacrificing his soul, to save mine.

My eyes opened, as I was breathing heavily.

An illusion all this was, it seemed.

A game a child was playing far away, unaware,

Who had created an image, a shadow of mine, weary with time.

But as I looked back and recalled that haunting smile,

The rivers continued to flow.

(I don't know if this counts as poetry. I don't think it is.

I wrote this at 4.30am as I couldn't sleep!)