Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
The void was first born on the bed.
I then felt it on land scapes.
Over the green coats of hills,
The clouds dance with the mist,
The suns kiss of swollen earth,
The smells of rains fallen fresh on clays rust.
Now I feel the void in my office drives,
During my lunch breaks
During my times I don't exist.
I wonder has your yearning evolved?
Comments about this poem (Coming closer by Hardik Vaidya )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley