Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
I Gift You 7 Heavens
There is nothing for me to give.
I have taken all.
Like a bee, drunk, of your nectar.
Morse code, remorse mode,
All the mores, and many more.
There is nothing for me to tell further.
No forest left to burn asunder.
Under a dead sky,
My cloudless mind lies vacant.
The soul of my being shapes as a crescent.
It has nothing to tell me.
Schizophrenic it mumbles, laughs, and talks.
To another crescent,
The moonshine soft.
I have been abandoned,
On the shore like a dead weed.
Ignored by my soul and your moonshine.
They don't listen to either of us.
While they make wild love,
We live as celibate monks.
They are obsessed,
This May they want to live 7 heavens.
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