What an arrogant obscured thing you are
Keeping my windows wide open like the massive gate of Buland Darwaza
Yet the lights of these roofs have gone down,
with my singing silence harmonizing with the snores of these resting men
How selfish of you to not even drop a plop of doze in my optics.
I’ve strived for tears to wash my eyes from these psychic melodies.
I am just in debt of emotions,
I’ve tried to reminisce sadly…
Question marks await hanging in head.
‘’what makes one sleepy?’’
You arrogant obscured thing,
You’ve got my brains marching.
What a picket I’ve become.
Can’t you feel honored to be invited?
I am starring into these thin spaces, in hope of my windows to close.
I guess for now, it’s a goodnight to you ‘sleep’.