Remnants(A half-remembered dream)

Drenched in sweat, In vain I try,

To repaint the majestic splendour,

Contumacious recollections creep and I,

This phantasmagoria, I render,

It meant to me, I know not what,

Maybe as much as my Muse's breath,

That clouds my biased looking-glass,

Into my subversive, inward, dimlit room,

Or a dusty, long-lost artifact, that

Avoids an avoidable corner, In class,

Avoids my gaze, In stealth,

Maybe a significant tear in gloom,

Or the Chrysanthemums in full bloom,

In a Japanese wedding-night,

Or on the grave of a valorous British knight!

'Ghalib', I had christened him,

He had fought with me till the very end,

Or I'd like to believe, the dim,

Grey eyes, The mast that had held me aloft,

And like the knight I'd like to pretend,

I was amidst the heavyset thickets, The soft,

Rustling of the verdant Peepul leaves,

Then the freezing Tundra, Merciless as ever,

Brought out in me my primal wants,

Amidst the shrieks of forgettable taunts,

Again, as my heart still believes,

New realms in her, I discovered!

Mere words for her, never would suffice,

What just a casual glimpse could be,

Fathom the depth, That moment precise,

Of the abyss, My passionate mind,

Invaders lame or third-eye blind,

Seized my momentary lapse, To flee,

But I fought, 'Ghalib' the victorious one,

With a gallop, My magnificent steed,

To decapitate the infidel, To make him bleed,

I believe I killed the wretched one!

A crack I saw, Like platonic shifts,

The Pangea, that once enraptured me,

Fragments I beheld, Now scattered in seas,

Confused as Frost with alternate paths,

Unlike him, indecisive, My wrath,

Rained down on my fictitious, bewildered self,

As I sought her peaks, My ever loyal fleets,

Scrambled up and down like little elves!

And now the vespertine zephyr it blows,

A salty sting my probable wounds,

A swansong or an anthem glares,

From the conches, As I bellow,

The words that now don't ring and sound,

Mere vignettes, Of a hazy dream,

And the eyes of my reflection stares,

At a blank, irrevocable thought-stream!

And as soon as it had begun,

In white flashes, It disappeared,

I remember footsteps, I still work the rhythm,

When I walk alone, Or sprint or run,

And the vessel I so diligently steered,

The vassals, And my lighter moments with them,

Sometimes I paint the majestic walls,

And let the dull drapery cover it all!

Now, read the last paragraph, and then begin from the beginning, a cyclical poem, written for the Creative Writing GC.