Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet

144,884 poems read

Where there is no honesty; there is simply not an infinitesimal iota of prosperity; with even the most mightiest of civilizations; disdainfully squelching like a pack of frigid cards; to have a taste of forlornly threadbare dust, 


Where there is no compassion; there is simply not a capricious whisker of solidarity; with the most formidably invincible of organisms; sinking infinite feet beneath their sordidly ghastly graves, 


Where there is no faith; there is simply not a dolorously minuscule fraction of strength; with even the most unfathomably unconquerable army of scintillating patriots; obnoxiously pulverized to the last bone of their worthless spine, 


Where there is no commitment; there is simply not a remote insinuation of success; with even the most fathomlessly rich and bountifully abundant; ludicrously abnegating every iota of their spurious wealth, 


Where there is no simplicity; there is simply not a diminutive inch of bloom; with even the most fragrantly robust of humans; murderously prying for each 

other's throats, 


Where there is no freedom; there is simply not an inconspicuously infidel centimeter of growth; with even the most vivaciously bouncing living beings miserably sweating in premature cacophony; towards their morbidly demonic graveyards, 


Where there is no innocence; there is simply not an obscurely orphaned chunk of artistry; with even the most eclectically talented of individuals; horrendously rotting in realms of ghastly manipulation; for centuries unprecedented, 


Where there is no color; there is simply not an parsimoniously obfuscated haze of beauty; with even the most panoramically vivid sceneries; haplessly extinguishing into the dormitories of gruesomely obsolete wilderness, 


Where there is no ardor; there is simply not a whimsically tiny speck of ambition; with even the most flamboyantly dynamic fortresses of power; blowing into

ridiculous nothingness at a stray mouthful of nimble wind, 


Where there is no closeness; there is not a pallidly mercurial space of shelter; with even the most boundlessly gigantic and grandiloquent of castles; uncouthly freezing you to; grotesque carcasses beyond recognition, 


Where there is no will; there is simply not an inordinately tiny bit of enthusiasm; with even the most overwhelmingly dazzling beams of dynamism; lividly coalescing with the gory waters of the treacherous gutters, 


Where there is no mankind; there is simply not a meaninglessly little vial of divinity; with even the most fervently praying fickle minded devotees; being austerely penalized at every step that they trespassed, 


Where there is no newness; there is simply not a pathetically neglected hint of evolution; with even the most prolifically proliferating organisms; despondently stagnating in brutal dungeons of despairingly nonchalant misery, 


Where there is no patriotism; there is simply not a whimsically insensitive impression of triumph; with even the most indomitably well equipped of soldiers; inevitably shaking hands with preposterously laughable defeat, 


Where there is no melody; there is simply not a decipherably stingy blade of sweetness; with the most exhilaratingly entertaining of idols; diabolically failing to impress even the fleeting shadows scattered scraggily around, 


Where there is no spirit; there is simply not an ungainly obscured trace of charisma; with even the most inherently inborn of magnetic personalities; savagely evaporating into lackadaisically lackluster wisps of smoke, 


Where there is no transparency; there is simply not a baselessly non-existent tip of conscience; with even the most unfathomably impregnable of living beings; eventually crucifying themselves under a tornado of guilt and salacious lies, 


Where there is no yearning; there is simply not a remotely abominable puff of breath; with even the most indefatigably inhaling nostrils; being ruthlessly asphyxiated into dormitories; of barbarically strangulated submission, 


And where there is no love; there is simply not a worthlessly negligible wind of life; with even the most passionately palpitating and perpetual beats of the heart; demonically incarcerating you in the prison of viciously vindictive dullness 

and death.

Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Where There Is No Love