Life = Death - Volume 4 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

21. AN INFINITE LIVES; AN INFINITE DEATHS 

An infinite playgrounds of exuberantly rhapsodic smiles; An infinite coffins of inexplicably aggrieving tears,

An infinite gorges of unprecedentedly unceasing ecstasy; An infinite mortuaries

of remorsefully decrepit sullenness,

An infinite skies of celestially everlasting enchantment; An infinite barren slopes of debasingly slithering and demonic scorpions,

An infinite entrenchments of majestically resplendent accolades; An infinite begging

bowls of horrendously ghastly impoverishment and threadbare disdain,

An infinite temples of unconquerably Omnipotent heavenliness; An infinite cadaverously traumatic spirits; marauding ghoulishly into the impeccable soul,

An infinite anecdotes of gorgeously perennial prosperity; An infinite crutches of bizarrely debilitating and acrimoniously disastrous leprosy,

An infinite meadows of tantalizingly tingling freshness; An infinite dungeons uxoriously dumped with pugnacious feces and ominously lackluster indolence,

An infinite valleys of ingeniously royal inventions; An infinite fecklessly frigid and insipidly sedentary stones; lying crumpled beneath the cacophonically groaning donkey’s hide,

An infinite roses of invincibly enamoring scent; An infinite whiplashes of unsavorily brutal dereliction and pathetically subjugating politics,

An infinite castles bounteously overflowing with iridescently mesmerizing cisterns of gold and jubilant silver; An infinite infinitesimal mosquitoes digging their tentacles harder and harder into treacherously rotting shit,

An infinite uninhibitedly fluttering birds impregnably ruling the fathomlessly crystal blue skies; An infinite preposterously diminutive ants; being blown into wisps of ethereal oblivion at the slightest innuendo of wind,

An infinite rainbows of profoundly titillating reinvigoration; An infinite prison bars besmirched with vindictively diabolical prejudice and unendingly malicious ennui,

An infinite winds of blisteringly indomitable victories; An infinite disparagingly disappearing and profane shadows of merciless betrayal,

An infinite oceans of opulently milky pearls; An infinite iconoclastically ragged cobblestones leading to the gallows of unsparing extinction,

An infinite venerated cries of the innocuously newborn; An infinite disheveled grey hair; which mightn’t sight yet another dawn,

An infinite Lions patriotically marching with Kingly ease through the paradise of insuperable truth; An infinite insects being indiscriminately trampled by the advancing foot; for ostensibly no reason or rhyme,

An infinite scriptures of pricelessly worshipped literature; An infinite hutments of gratuitously salacious illiteracy; existing fathomless kilometers beneath the poverty line,

An infinite fortnights of timelessly blessing sensuousness; An infinite carcasses of ludicrously sordid infertility; inconsolably weeping all the time,

An infinite heavens of ingratiatingly astounding proliferation; An infinite Hell’s where only torturously cold-blooded barbarism reigned hedonistically supreme,

An infinite exotically propitious replenishments; An infinite tumultuously torrid deserts of limitlessly sub-servient thirst,

And an infinite unassailably euphoric lives; An infinite despairingly violent and deliriously cruel deaths,

Is what every ingredient of my blood ardently wanted to experience; for the spirit of Immortally unshakable and wonderfully mystical; poetry; poetry and

Omnipresently magical Love Poetry.