The Bedside Vindauga

Staring out from a window besides my bed during my short and sophisticated time in Pune, these randomly clustered verses are very tantamount to equally random thoughts.

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​Gazing  the old myriad of invisible stars,
Glaring pollution of the edifices far,
Oodles of endless moving errant cars,
We lay besides the bedside Vindauga for hours.

The Spectacle-less bokeh of befouled lights engrossed,
With an incongruous music of several crickets tossed,
The dark theater from where we stared quite obsessed,
We lay besides the bedside Vindauga blinking a li’l relaxed.

Nigh, our pysche wandered,
Old memories left brain thundered,
Yet new thoughts left right unhindered,
And we lay besides the bedside Vindauga clamer than relaxed.

Thoughts of solitariness are comrades in arms,
Thoughts of forlorness thrived next to none,
Thoughts lost to the macabre  platoon of haunting war,
I lay lone, lost besides the bedside Vindauga tranquilized than calmed.
The foredawn I sit besides the bedside Vindauga wanting more.
The foredawn I sit besides the bedside Vindauga desiring more.
The foredawn I sit besides the bedside Vindauga admiring more.