QuIXotIsM

Dwelt in a conch
By the shingle of the beach
Snoozing day and night
No wayfarer did pay her any heed

Hi-jacked into the novel lands
She lay in her dream painted conch wall
Chafed against the sand and waves
Her home lost its shine and lustre

Many a passerby did kick her past
Her abode like a mother's womb guarded
Buried in the sandy beach, shrieked and wailed
Dream painted walls darkened into nightmares

Perishing under the sandy beach, choked and suffocated
But ebbs and flows were to her rescue
Updrew her, where she laid; the Insomniac
Neither dreams nor fantasies abducted her any longer.

Sun seeped into her conch another day
Unlike before she gleamed
A loony traveller did spent some time there that day
His compassion enclasped her and along he carried her