Late one night felt like noonday,
In drunkenness all soberness forgotten.
Three acts. Nineteen days. All in one play.
Indulgence in its newness was all I knew.
(Day 1-2) A different world, surreal, I thought.
(Day 3-4) I walked floating and ended clouting–
(Day 5) Upon shoulders of strangers, too close.
(Day 6) To foreign attractiveness I was lured in.
(Day 7-8) Different shapes and hues altogether,
(Day 9-11) A utopia, a brand new Eden it seemed.
(Day 12-13) Giggles, smiles I put on my face anew,
(Day 14) As I submerged into fantasy and myth.
(Day 15) Waking up in arms no more unknown,
(Day 16) I felt amnesia hang-(all)-over me.
(Day 17) Must be the magical in reality,
(Day 18-19) All the music seem to ring new bells in me.
But after the count of nineteen,
I was taken away from land to sky
To the sea, to an island made for me.
The twentieth was the opposite of all I thought.
Instead of memory disappearing to mist,
The truth dawned, fogs and clouds rolled away.
Bridges once burned rebuilt and fortified
During the teleportation and miscarriage of one night.
An illusion, a subjective prejudice, fickle.
A spark of twenty days, only fleeting.
The winds blow away the smoke that was left,
Ashes remain while flames consumed in vain.