He tosses around the bed sheets, hands clutching the pillow,
As his closed eyes see another dimension, a whole new world.
He turns and hits his bed mate,
Nothing, absolutely nothing was going to take him away from this new world.
Not even rapture was going to stop him from completing this dream.
The only time he lives is when his eyes are closed.
The only time he is alive is when the night is nigh and he stumbles to the bed.
For as his head hits the wooden pillow and he hurriedly kills the demonic mosquitoes,
The last thing he forgets is his bed mate snores,
And the first thing the remembers is the crowd cheering at him,
As he closes those eyes.
He is standing on a stage and the spot light is on him,
There is someone running around, setting things in order
He looks familiar maybe in another life, he was his boss.
Besides him stands the most angelic being he has ever seen,
Whispering into his ears, I am proud of you baby.
She looks familiar too, maybe in another life she was his neighbour.
Crowd cheering like he was the messiah,
People holding banners saying ‘Thank God for creating you’.
People holding banners saying ‘You are our hero’.
People holding banners saying ‘You are a blessing to our generation’.
People holding banner saying ‘You have blessed our lives’.
Fathers holding banners saying ‘I wish my son was like you’.
Sons holding banners saying ‘I wish my father was like you’.
Mothers holding banners saying ‘I wish my husband like you’.
Daughters holding banners saying ‘I wish he was like you’.
Soaking in on everything,
It was like waking up in the middle of paradise,
And he stops his thoughts suddenly, no waking up!
I do not want to wake up!
And he hears a voice behind him saying,
It is time, and everywhere was silent.
He looks at the podium and skims through the pages in front of him.
The words look too familiar,
The handwriting looks even more familiar,
I know these words he says to himself,
In another world, they could have been my thoughts.
He looks up, and everyone was looking at him,
He holds the microphone to his mouth and all they could hear were his heart beats.
He looks at the paper, and nothing could come out of his mouth,
He looks at the crowd and they all stared right back at him, waiting.
And still, all they could hear was his heart beat.
This cannot happen to me again, he screams inside,
And he tells them what he has been telling them ever since,
Please wait, tomorrow would be different.
And the little child in front of the stage asked him,
When is tomorrow?
He looks at the child and as he opened his mouth,
The mosquito bit him again, and he was wide awake,