Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet
The thing as frigid as a dead follicle of hair; was indiscreet hatred,
The thing as disdainful as the bathroom cockroach; was illicit smuggling,
The thing as pale as the dilapidated wall; was overwhelming prejudice,
The thing as resplendent as the pearly moon; was a gregarious smile on the
luscious lips,
The thing as morose as the broken branch of the tree; was tumultuous sorrow
blended with grief,
The thing as transparent as the crystal mountain stream; was unsolicited truth,
The thing as bankrupt as a bedraggled beggar; was pugnacious enmity,
The thing as innocuous as the hazel eyed monkey; was the cry of a small
child,
The thing as volatile as hot green chili; was immensely provoked anger,
The thing as sweet as freshly prepared nectar; was the voice of the benevolent
propagating humanity,
The thing as blotted as the abysmally dark waters of the gutter;
was indiscriminately brutal crime,
The thing as cold as frozen pulp of icecream; was blatant jealousy,
The thing as nostalgic as the oblivious past; was indefatigable fantasies of
the brain,
The thing as sizzling as ravishing brown crustacean coffee; was stupendous
exultation,
The thing as inflated as a gas balloon; was ostentatious pride,
The thing as appeasing as appetizing morsels of food; was philanthropic
friendship which fortified by the minute,
The thing as vociferous as a barking dog; was insatiable hunger which arose
sporadically in the stomach,
The thing as infinite as the boundaries of the emerald ocean; was ubiquitous humanity,
The thing as inevitably intoxicating as liquor; was unfathomable greed,
The thing as venomous as the sting of a scorpion; was racial discrimination,
The thing as preposterously huge as the impeccable dolphin; was
empathy towards fellow beings,
The thing as starved as scorched sands of the desert; was the ominously
diabolic devil,
And the thing as impeccable as white pearls impregnated in oyster shells; as
effusive as thunderous rain pelting down; was perpetual love.
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The Thing
The Thing
