Sky O sky,
Gentle as you go by.
Violent and ferocious at times,
All the people praying in riddles and rhymes.
The sun sailing and setting,
You're like the sea, calm, quiet and raging otherwise.
Different shades every day,
Blue, orange, black and grey.
The birds flying, oh, so high!
Singing and stretching as they fly.
There's not a day that passes by without being fascinated by your theme-less days,
Not one but in a million ways.
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