Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


When I wrote her name with light fountain ink; on the naked parchment of white paper, 


It appeared almost invisible; failed to portray the fervent intensity of our romance.


 


When I inscribed her name on the walls; using exquisite quality of floral paints, 


There emanated an ethereal fragrance of flower; although it failed to highlight the main ingredient of our love.


 


When I scribbled her name on the slippery beach sands; using a chiseled twig, 


The calligraphy embossed looked amusing; although it soon got washed in entirety by the gushing waves.


 


When I painted her name on scintillating glass; using vibrant strokes of steel gray, 


The printing was so scrupulous and neat; that it miserably failed to depict the tenacity of our relationship.


 


When I wrote her name on the black board; using a cylindrical stick of expensive chalk, 


It appeared clear and bold; although it couldn't yet provoke even the slightest of sentiment; and the professor soon scrubbed it clean with his duster.


 


When I embedded her name on a triangular biscuit of gold; using my switchblade knife, 


It appeared grandiloquently studded; although it gave our love a look of ostentatious flattery.


 


When I symmetrically carved her name on the soft tree bark; using the corrugated drill, 


It appeared astoundingly clear from a far distance; although it failed to convey our immortality; as the next second a nomad chopped it down.


 


When I incorporated her name on the voluptuous cake; using an icing of aromatic peppermint, 


It looked romantically enticing; although it couldn't display the essence of our romance; soon lost its charm as a battalion of ants and insets crawled all over.


 


When I painstakingly penned her name on glittering diamonds; using a solution of shimmering silver, 


It appeared kingly and aristocratic; although it failed to highlight the hardships we had undergone to make our love an intransigent success.


 


And when I wrote her name on my chest; using rusty nails and a gleaming blade, 


Pools of blood dribbled down my ribs; rendering me virtually unconscious; but this time it spoke fathomless volumes of our immense dedication, 


With each droplet of blood; reflecting the unconquerable tenacity of our everlasting love.



Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
When I Wrote Her Name

198,906 Poems Read

Sponsors