High.

I turn the brightness down,
Releive my bloodshot eyes.
They are mere slits,
Since the swelling thrives.

I disarm my sense of hearing,
And the grounds pulse
To a beat of my choice,
With the skies singing along.

Meticulously I listen,
With appreciation un-felt before.
My gaze following the common road,
That never looked this pretty before.
©spread_love