Parched, not dry, cracked not broken.
Dripping, not oozing on an unknown planet.
But alive. Breathing, clawing into the soil.
Finding the dreams which once lived there.
Dreams of aliens, which seed new thoughts.
Once they become mine I become an alien.
From green depths erupt purple volcanoes,
Are they thoughts? Letters? Alphabets? Dead experiences?
The magenta oozes out of my pores and flows out as ruby red,
Shines in the alien suns, in a color my eyes see but my being does not.
The moons bathe me, and I bask as the cold basalt.
The waves of my soul nudge me alive,
I write on the sands of time.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Subterranean by Hardik Vaidya )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Valentine, mary douglas
- GOD'S GLORY, Tom Zart
- Even After Us, Naveed Akram
- companions, paul bamberger
- Nothing Else To Do, Kyle Schlicher
- MARTYRS الشهداء, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- I Take My Calm, Midnights Voice
- At The Bus Station In Charleston, South .., Kyle Schlicher
- OVER THE HARD ROCK OF SUICIDE فوق صخرة ا.., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Today I Watched A fly, Kyle Schlicher