Shapes

Pic : Self

Living shapes
often broken
turn to dust,

crushed
to the nothingness
of nought,

waiting
for reassimilation
of some sorts,

and then
a falling
wayward raindrop,

becomes
the cement
for a new sculpture,

shapes
can change
and often do,

turning to dust
will be the end
once,

but before
the finality
of that end,

there is so much more
that i can
turn into.

© vidursahdev 2018

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Strings

Pic : Self

Invisible strings
run,
in this visible
world,

joining souls
lying,
randomly scattered
beyond the touch,

i don’t know
why,
or how
it happened so,

but i know
a slight tug,
is all
it takes,

for the known
but now unknown,
to become
known once again.

© vidursahdev 2018

Writing on the Wall

Artwork : Self

Read
the writing
on the wall
they said,

even before
i had learnt
to read
and write,

the forecasters
of failure
and iminent
doom,

for some
unknown reason
abound like
termites,

it often
takes
a long time
even after,

the learning of
how to
read
and write,

to know
that the walls
that spell
such gloom,

can always
be broken
by wisdom’s
might.

© vidursahdev 2018

Maybe

Pic : Self

maybe
no roads,
lead
to anywhere,
of any tangible
consequence
really,

maybe
its just
a long
unending walk,
to an
impending
eventuality,

maybe
the pace
eventually,
doesn’t matter,
and distance
isn’t
really the measure,

maybe
the destination,
is just
a preconceived
convenient
notional
reality,

so now
i walk
rather slowly,
enjoying
each step,
that comes
my way,

looking at
the sights around,
and carefully
listening
to what
this road,
has to say.

© vidursahdev 2018

Limitations

Pic : Self

With passing
time
i slowly learnt,
that
irrespective of
how i tried,
i still
couldn’t
really,
imitate god,

for every night
as i lay
in bed,
waiting
for these
eyelids
to shut,
sleep
to come
and the day
to be done,

i created
the perfect
world
in my
head,
with
everything
that,
this day
could not
be,

and the world
that would
be,
with
everything
I’d want to,
worthy of
the magic
of a given
tomorrow,

and each night
thereafter,
i slowly
realised,
the boredom
of my own,
limited
imaginations,
before
falling off,
to a peaceful
sleep.

© vidursahdev 2018

The Mystery

Pic : Self

i weave a picture
of you,

from the imaginings
of my mind,

making sure
i add enough flaws,

to the meticulously knitted
wefts and warps,

knowing that even
a manifestation,

needs to be
realistic enough,

for even hope to have
the slightest hope,

that someday
it could be realised,

for in reality
perfection is,

just an overrated
idealistic myth,

yet each time
i reach completion,

of my endeavoured
piece,

i seem
to have failed,

in my laborious
attempts,

for what
comes out,

inspite of the intended imperfections,

still seems too perfect
to manifest.

© vidursahdev 2018