You die; I die - Love Poems - Part 14

Home > Fantasy > You die; I die - Love Poems - Part 14 > Page 10
You die; I die - Love Poems - Part 14 Page 10

by Nikhil Parekh


  When the lips erred; not following their regular rhythm of charismatically smiling upon the astoundingly glittering dais; the fathomless flock of congenial crowds; pelted unruly stone and ghastly abuse; before they embarked back upon a horrifically

  disgruntled retreat,

  When the feet erred; not following their regular rhythm of patriotically marching forward in euphoric gusto; they uncouthly embedded themselves deeper and

  deeper into sullen cocoons of soil as the minutes unfurled; before becoming easily vulnerable targets for the unsurpassable battalion of hideously grinning termites,

  When the ears erred; not following their regular rhythm of sagaciously discerning the most minutest of sound; they eventually found themselves savagely entrapped; in bizarre clutches of the disparagingly rampaging demon,

  When the pigs erred; not following their regular rhythm of greedily gobbling through piles of fetidly abominable garbage; they paid the price of their lives; as civilians mistook them for tame dogs; enslaving them in overwhelmingly rigid collar; and

  taut chains,

  When the rivers erred; not following their regular rhythm of profusely melanging with the boundless oceans; the barbarically tyrannical rays of the sweltering Sun; eventually dried every speck of their liquid; rendering them to freeze; under avalanches of abhorrent prejudice,

  When the eggs erred; not following their regular rhythm of taking amicable shelter amidst nettles and grass laid in by their sacrosanct mothers; the venomous lizards and snakes eventually consumed them for nocturnal supper; squelching them

  to capriciously worthless mincemeat,

  When the mind erred; not following its regular rhythm of existing in synergistic symbiosis with the extraneously bountiful planet; it found itself counting the last days of its life; in the realms of dilapidated oblivion and gruesomely stabbing starvation,

  When the conscience erred; not following its regular rhythm of harboring nothing else but the irrefutable idol of truth; it was lambasted by the whips of surreptitiously guilty hell; unfathomably penalized for the remainder of its life,

  When the breath erred; not following its regular rhythm of holistically creeping in and out of the intricately enchanting nostrils; it besieged the individual with insurmountable spurts of insidiously asphyxiated tension; eventually perpetuating him to die,

  But when the heart erred; not following its regular rhythm of pragmatically monitored beats; throbbing faster than the whirlwinds of divinely light; it

  embraced  the most wonderfully immortal ocean of existence; it embraced the fireballs of everlasting love .

 

  40. REBORN TO LOVE 

  She was 100 years old; yet the blood that flowed through her intricate veins; insatiably yearned to a frolic like a teenaged damsel; once again,

  She was 100 years old; yet the expressions on her shriveled chin; could captivate even the most remotely alien; in a spell of exotically never ending enchantment,

  She was 100 years old; yet the impeccable whites of her fading eyes;  unraveled a tale of poignant nostalgia; and resplendently unprecedented charm,

  She was 100 years old; yet the melody in her bountifully wavering voice; unsurpassably enshrouded traumatized hearts; with perennially rhapsodic happiness,

  She was 100 years old; yet the emphatically embossed lines on her palm; celestially depicted a tale of sheer majesty to; bloomingly unfurl,

  She was 100 years old; yet the tenacity in her diminutively feeble footsteps; was enough to face the acrimoniously advancing army; beautifully singlehanded,

  She was 100 years old; yet the magical smile on her divinely lips; still enlightened countless paths besieged with murderously barbaric gloom; with rays of unprecedented euphoria,

  She was 100 years old; yet the astounding enigma in the lines of her forehead; spoke fathomless volumes of an angel; gallivanting in unfathomable

  entrenchments of untamed desire,

  She was 100 years old; yet the determination in her fragile bones; was irrefutably enough; to survive for a countless more births yet to poignantly unveil,

  She was 100 years old; yet the ecstasy in her nascently subdued taste buds; was overwhelming enough; to taste the most appetizing morsels of eclectically titillating food,

  She was 100 years old; yet the desires in her majestic soul; were a philanthropic ocean; to ubiquitously unite and serve all; mankind,

  She was 100 years old; yet the impregnable ardor of her ideals; was a miraculous rainbow of optimistic hope; Herculean strength; and an everlasting will to bless all humanity,

  She was 100 years old; yet the astounding titillation of her shadow; was still as luminescent as that of a freshly born immaculate infant,

  She was 100 years old; yet the overpowering effulgence that tinkled as she walked; was a garden of blissfully tranquil and exotically fragrant enchantment,

  She was 100 years old; yet the impressions of her heavenly feet; were a cloud

  of perpetually endowing happiness,

  She was 100 years old; yet the symbiotic synergy that crawled through even the most infinitesimal iota of her compassionate demeanor; was an ocean of unprecedented enthrallment; and silken charm,

  She was 100 years old; yet the Omnipotent artistry in her trembling fingers; was a landscape of incredulously panoramic versatility; and ebullient color,

  She was 100 years old; yet the fire in her sacrosanct breath; the unparalleled ardor in her fulminating heart; was an unconquerable fortress; of an infinite more redolent lives,

  And she was 100 years old; yet the immortal love in her heart was just the same when our eyes had first met; as she unassailably took birth as my lover once again; even after she had abdicated her last puff of vital breath .

  The End .

 


‹ Prev