Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


Tears might have dried from my eyes with the rapid unfurling of time; and the winds of the tumultuous maelstrom ferociously sweeping past my impoverished facial contours, 


But I still melt into miserably icy nothingness; slithering like a hopeless shadow on the ground; without the fireballs of justice in your irrefutably Omnipotent voice.


 


Tears might have dried from my eyes as the seasons galloped by; and the waves of bizarre manipulation took their toll on me; to lead contemporary life, 


But I still metamorphose into insipidly infinitesimal ash; wailing incessantly towards the corridors of fathomless eternity; without the marvelously majestic radiance 


on your bountiful cheeks.


 


Tears might have dried from my eyes as the Sun took its blazingly fiery toll over the entire Universe; and an unfathomable mountain of responsibility thrust on my shoulders compelled me to slog like a monotonous bull, 


But I still shatter into an infinite pieces of meaninglessness; vengefully abhorring even the most gloriously fascinating of my bodily contours; without the unconquerable valley of sacrosanct righteousness; in your silken palms.


 


Tears might have dried from my eyes as the nights sped into blossoming days; and the insatiably unending pace of life commanded me to safeguard my persona; from the salaciously hostile pack of wolves, 


But I still perennially lambaste myself with whiplashes of treacherous suffering; shrinking to a mere whisker of my original self; without your unflinchingly charismatic ideals of divine mankind.


 


Tears might have dried from my eyes as the fortnights unbelievably accelerated into marathon years; and the burden to replenish my disastrously famished stomach; 


so overwhelming that thoughts refrained to enter my ruthlessly tyrannized brain, 


But I still remain cripplingly awake all throughout the tenure of the savage night; dreaming of nothing but ghastly death; without your impeccable sky of


blessings that sprouted from your; gloriously immaculate soul.


 


Tears might have dried from my eyes as the fireball of Sun every dawn sizzled tenaciously; and the inevitable urge to sequester my kin; took astronomically


limitless proportions in my brain, 


But I still feel more devastated than the remorsefully sullen corpse; stabbing my persona with knives of desperation at the slightest of excuse; without your


wand of Omnipresently royal humanity.


 


Tears might have dried from my eyes as the tumultuous intensity of the air outside torrentially caressed me all the time; and the norms of this conventionally mundane society kicked me brutally; if I cried, 


But I still feel like a gruesomely decimated piece of shit; wasting each moment of robustly vital life; without your incredulously magnetic and timeless touch.


 


Tears might have dried from my eyes as I was born again after a countless births; and the horrendously augmenting robotism of this planet; rendering each part of my dwindling body; to just an unemotional machine, 


But I still feel like a solitary warrior perennially oozing blood in the midst of the ominously excoriating battlefield; barbarically dying every instant although


possessing fountains of mystical breath; without your aroma of  ingratiating oneness and stupendously ever-pervading charm.


 


And tears might have dried from my eyes as fleeting minutes sped into wholesomely new civilizations of tomorrow; with each element of my penurious visage extraordinarily busy; in acclimatizing to the devilish dust around, 


But I still indefatigably pledged to end priceless life; with each beat of my heart transforming into a skeleton of worthless hatred; without your perpetually poignant principles of humanity; your unassailable belief in the religion of unshakable mankind.



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Tears Might Have Dried From My Eyes

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