Windmill At Sitka Poem by Diplove gautam

Leaving the city, heading way to hill.
We lost the fuel, then saw a windmill.
Hilly, Filthy, Stony, it was hard way Bill.
The way was dark, there were mark, it may kill.
It was harder, more suffocating, neither chill.
It was raining by we reach there until.
We been to glasberg, nibble and even Jamaica.
I say, we saw, strange windmill right there at sitka.

Trees tall, huge waterfall, old hall and then i saw rest of all.
It's alright, i am fine, just wondering to make a call.
Wind miller, as a killer, has his own abattoir.
We were trapped, he madly laughed, then we heard a choir.
He fainted, we escaped and ran out, they sent us kite.
We were alive, we loved those tribe, who saved our life.
We been to Jerusalem, Kathmandu and also mecca.
Its was risky, thriller and neck breaking at windmill of Sitka.

I say it was enchanting and hunting at windmill.
Don't you ever please stop there with will.
Its been a danger, there were many stranger.
They look good, enthusiastic but are really scavenger.
I have been everywhere even Ascobs and Nersie.
But i promise i will be in windmill of Sitka very barely.
There was a guy who accompanied us, that was Mr. Mika.
That's it, it was all about, windmill at Sitka.