Doomed to Die

You trace the outlines
of a shadow,

to essentially measure
its worth,

and the sun
laughs out loud,

sometimes at you
and sometimes at me,

At you, for missing
the content,

that it lends its light
to highlight,

and me, for standing
so hopefully,

letting you
complete that futile trace.

© vidursahdev 2018

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Selene

Those nights
when she
doesn’t,
show up at all,

are
my darkest,
and I do
miss her so,

for I know
it is those nights,
she shines
the brightest,

away
from all eyes,
that constantly
judge her,

by the illusory,
waxing
and waning
they see,

and I know
those nights,
she smiles
radiantly within,

knowing,
that she is
always
complete,

even when
to them,
she seems
incomplete.

© vidursahdev 2018

When the heart aches

Pic : Self

I open my palm,
to let you go,

your name,
you didn’t find,

in the
lines engraved,

you believe
in the written,

i believe
in the felt,

and i guess
that is enough,

for what needs
to be said,

to the
aching heart,

which inspite
of repeatedly,

screaming out
your name,

remained unheard,
and remained unread.

© vidursahdev 2018

Emptiness and Beyond

Pic : Self

I have
often felt,

an empty hand
has no fears,
an empty stomach
asks no choice,

an empty heart
has no doors,
and empty arms
long to hold,

an empty mind
doesn’t exist,
an empty thought
is still a thought,

an empty house
needs no light,
an empty wall
is wasted space,

an empty glass
awaits to be filled,
an empty garden
seems barren land,

an empty ocean
an empty sky,
beyind imagination
inconceivable thoughts,

as an empty world
devoid of you,
would be an empty page
devoid of me.

© vidursahdev 2018

Falling

Pic : Self

So I fell
but don’t ask
where,

for I sensed
the onset
of autumn too,

eyes and mind
teased
to the core,

seeing
those cheeky
red faced leaves,

desert the tree
for the party
below,

so I fell
like that isolated
feather,

that couldn’t
keep flapping
amongst the herd,

needing to find
its own
destiny too,

maybe a quill
in the hands
of a poet,

or maybe
a bookmark
in a cherished book,

so I too fell
into that oneway
abyss,

where falling
is fun
when autumn bares,

but leaf and feather
being mere
metaphors,

went with the wind
not as they had
planned,

and as for me
I still continue
to fall,

sometimes
pretending
to be a metaphor too,

for like
the falling leaf
or the falling feather,

returns
only happen
in creative folklore.

© vidursahdev 2018

Poetry

Pic : Self

When the
stormy clouds
of your normally
peaceful mind,
hold more weight
than they can
retain,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain,

when the
continuing silence
of your own voice,
goes beyond
the realms
of what the heart
can contain,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain,

when the
expanse of love
is a sea within,
seeking it’s share
of reciprocation
from the universe’s
expanse,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain,

when the insides
are scorched
by a relentless drought,
and the fumes
of the vaporous soul
are too much
to bear,

I am the words
that fall
like incessant
rain.

© vidursahdev 2018