Obsessed To Sleep

There was nothing else to ponder on,
minutes and hours went whistling by,
days sped into pitch dark night,
acrid rays of sunlight shone on hilltop roof,
bird music was the only confrontation,
with high pitched gurgling of mountain stream,
deafening sound of dry gusty wind,
mammoth bedspread of tree leaf cover,
sapphire blue puffs of drifting cloud mass,
canvas tent cloth shielding me in darkness,
perched right up at the conical precipice,
grey striped lizards gliding through rock crevice,
deciduous forests sprawled down the slope,
stretching into silver lining of distant horizon,
thick grass cover cushioning soil,
candle wax transiting to white grease,
as hot flames douse its periphery, provide orange light,
fleet of fighter jets leave trails of white smoke,
the fluffy camp bed sinks with my weight,
red cloth ceiling embarrassed by my continuous gaze,
the atmosphere enveloped with silent melody,
emanating from vocal chords deep down my throat,
advocating my penchant for omnipresent peace,
my unending tryst, for obsession with nil work.

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