Last  Antidote

Tempestuous dreams brewed

Once the ancient herbs were concocted

After nightfall

In the pale light of the moon

When the secret recipes,

Guarded by all

like treasures of yore

Took effect

The lonely drinker would swoon

Mysteries of love, of passion, of hatred

Of poisonous animosity

Danced before half shut eyes

Laden with intoxicating smoke

Smoke… Smelling better than

the best Oud from Arabia.

The uncouth and the wizened alike

Longed for dreams, which surpassed

Any living being’s imagination

…. For those dreams

Were palpable

Touching the drinker of the concoction

With all might.


gently enclosing him within his own dream.

tearing passion was imbibed

Just as the wet salty tears were felt

Different lives were lived

In years were spent

All in those realistic dreams

What maddening tricks

The brew played

What ancients miracles

One could behold

What finery worn,

Ah what love, sweet love, tasted

… All until…

The poison took effect

And shades of unseen horrors

Began eating the drinker’s mind

Screams were mute

the enticing potion played its last trick

The price

Of tempestuous dreams

Was matched with

The frightening reality.

It’s price…

The only antidote of now-poisoned dreams

To be claimed by the forces

Of the soundless winds,

…. The drinker’s last breath…


Catch more of Maryam Viqar with her previous poems at The Ugly Writers or by clicking on any of her works below:

call me home  man who can't be named  

And catch her on Instagram at Myrapoems