Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


If the eyes danced out of their sockets for times immemorial; morbidly bouncing in the untamed wilderness; with a ominous juggernaut of pugnacious snakes, 


The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but frantically groping in a whirlpool of meaninglessly threatening; and sinister darkness.


 


If the teeth danced out of their sockets for decades unfathomable; insipidly blending with pathetically lambasted chunks of flattened soil, 


The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but starving to an unprecedentedly murderous extinction every instant; remorsefully missing


tantalizing morsels of nature's priceless fruit.


 


If the fingers danced out of their sockets for centuries unsurpassable; resting in disdainful contentment; within the interiors of the horrifically abominable pigs stomach, 


The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but ludicrously slaving on brutally tyrannized ground; without the tiniest of ability to defend itself.


 


If the hair danced out of their sockets for times unfathomable; taking perfidious pride in becoming the witch's morning breakfast; as well as supper for the perilously invidious night, 


The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but ridiculously castigated and ignominiously looked down upon; as a battalion of white mice feasted on 


the; scintillatingly barren scalp.


 


If the blood danced out of its sockets for countless years; satanically hosting an insurmountable fleet of lecherous parasites, 


Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but only as a infinitesimally diminutive skeleton; tottering towards the brink of extinction; even in the heart of vivaciously vibrant life.


 


If the legs danced out of their sockets for unimaginable moments; to melt like frigidly


opprobrious pulp; even as the most minuscule beam of sunshine; filtered its way through the crimson clouds, 


Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without any ambition to wholesomely succeed; disastrously staggering to juxtapose with


deplorable despair; even before it could alight a nimble foot.


 


If the brain danced out of its sockets for fathomless fortnights; to be consumed timidly by grazing goats and sporadically loitering tiny worms, 


Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without even an inconspicuous iota of fantasy and desire; witnessing each little part of its being insidiously massacred; in hopelessly dumb submission.


If the conscience danced out of its sockets for infinite millennium's; to reside with the savage scorpions; as they diabolically feasted upon its irrefutably righteous visage, 


Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without the most remotest element of truth; miserably succumbing to the web of disgustingly


capricious lies.


 


Paradoxically to all of the above; if the Heart danced out of its sockets for infinite more births to unveil; philandering indefatigably behind the handsome hills; as the golden Sun kissed the evanescent horizons, 


Then the impoverished body would not only continue to exist; but would immortally continue to exist and evolve; into an invincibly romantic cloud of everlasting love; love; and only passionate love.



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If The Heart Danced Out

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