Life = Death - Volume 6 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

15. I DIDN’T WANT TO LIVE 

I didn’t want to smile; not even express even the most infinitesimal iota of my happiness, 

I didn’t want to run; not even drift my euphorically exhilarating foot even a fraction forward; to gallop with the perniciously dying winds, 

I didn’t want to wrestle; not even bulge even an insipid swell of muscle; out of my profoundly poignant and knotted shirt, 

I didn’t want to sing; not even stretch even the most inconspicuous chord of my throat; to pump melody in the disdainfully bereaved atmosphere, 

I didn’t want to emulate; not even copy even the most capricious of actions of cold-bloodedly wandering devils; flaming and around, 

I didn’t want to embrace; not even swirl even the most remote chunk of my poignantly robust flesh; towards devilishly abhorrently entities on this colossal

planet, 

I didn’t want to sleep; not even close my heavenly eyelids an ephemeral inch; to replenish my devastated countenance with spell binding sleep, 

I didn’t want to flirt; not even liberate even the most fugitive glimpse of my mischievous visage; towards the viciously adulterated ambience around, 

I didn’t want to triumph; not even unfurl into the most diminutive shadow of blazing vibrancy; amidst the parasites ghastily sucking blood outside, 

I didn’t want to fantasize; not even tax the crannies of my brain a mercurial shadow; to perceive about thissalaciously penalizing and gory world, 

I didn’t want to yawn; not even relax my exasperatedly beleaguered body a parsimonious trifle; to relish the fruits of this miserably blood-soaked globe, 

I didn’t want to eat; not even satiate my horrendously famished tongue an ethereal component; with the fodder of truculently dictatorial tyranny, 

I didn’t want to stare; not even concentrate an obfuscated bit with my diligent eyes; worthlessly whiling away my time sighting the ungainly rich mercilessly thrashing the diminutively deprived, 

I didn’t want to bless; not even shower even the most oblivious trace of my empathy; to all those erecting their palaces of gold on bountifully innocent soil; and then opening their discordant mouths to whine, 

I didn’t want to pray; not even ask the Almighty Lord even an evanescent showering of bliss; with all baselessly marauding and massacring politicians metamorphosing this earth into the most ultimate of disaster, 

I didn’t want to preach; not even waste even the most faintest rhythm of my sagacious voice; for all those dastardly rascals who sold their own mothers; for

bathing in raunchy cigar smoke and wine, 

I didn’t want to breathe; not even fill my lungs a threadbare trace; with the maliciously venomous graveyard of air; perfidiously lingering outside, 

I didn’t want to love; not even fulminate even the most inaudible beat of my heart; towards an entrenchment of vindictive lies and worthlessness; that brutally incarcerated me in this robotic age; from all sides, 

O! Yes; I have no shame whatsoever in divulging that I didn’t want to live anymore in this treacherously lambasting world today; for if this planet as manipulative as it was for just one more minute; then it was better to commit suicide and die; than to kiss

the fireballs of celestially sacred life.