The Stranger

On a sly evening; alone
In my room, stood a man,
A furtive lad clad in black
Such comely look I’ve never seen

I gazed at him quite some time
Just to meet his outlawed eyes.
His gentle hands caressed my face
As he whispered words I barely hear.

“Who are you?” I curiously asked
“I’m the man of your dreams.”
He mockingly replied.
Apparently that hit my head.

Nay! I was almost taken away.
Out in delusion,
I’m back in my room,
Alone and startled from a dream.



- 2008