Treading On Dreams by Ananya S Guha

I tread on stones

breaking into ice

I tread on stones

changing to water

fossil not stones

changing into ringing

gun shots

bullets not water

are they illusions

guns into bodies

bodies into death

rivers  into blood

I tread on them

my eyes cannot

hold,which is what.

At night I dream

peacefully of animals

skinned,and bodies

men, women and children

swathed in all white.

Sleeping peacefully.

I do not tread.

Somehow sleep must

not be disturbed.

Now,I am going to tread

on their dreams.