Mile high daze

Days go by,
nights stay awake,
sleepless within,
this placid lake;

Lake lies still,
in the morning chill,
‘neath the mist,
beneath these hills;

Hills they rise,
mountains high,
tearing through,
these empty skies;

Skies they weep,
as monsoon creeps,
they quench the thirst,
while I sip through my beak;

A bird I am,
flying sleepless,
spending days,
in my Mile High daze.

By Viraj Belgaonkar

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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