Long nights,
staring at stars,
the ancient dead,
lighting these hours;
Awaiting dawn,
an insomniac’s meth,
in winter winds,
with misty breaths;
Sleepless still,
in silence, dead;
These nights wither,
where I wait in the shed;
Long nights,
staring at stars,
the ancient dead,
lighting my hours.
Me,
awaiting sunshine.
By:Viraj Belgaonkar
