Waking Up Poem by Varghese J Kuttikat

Without moving a single finger of mine
I find my enemies scattered and subdued
Like leaves crushed under rude storm wild
Shall I shout aloud in syllables grand
In celebration of obvious intervention divine?
Every mother's son would love to believe
He can't go wrong, the enemies fell
Because of their innate depravity and malice foul
My enemies might raise hue and cry awful
Convinced of the God-forsaken World, utterly sinful
Now my darling gently knocks on the door
I wake up, my dream melts into the self interrior