Life = Death - Volume 3 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

33. TRY AND SEE INSTEAD 

Don’t blame the overwhelmingly blistering rays of the sweltering Sun; for the mind boggling proportions of heat it ruthlessly generated,

Try and see instead the beams of optimistic light it profoundly illuminated; in the lives of infinite souls completely deluged with hopeless despair.

Don’t blame the horrendously rotting apple for emanating an obnoxious scent; corrupting the spurious bliss of the grandiloquent atmosphere,

Try and see instead the ingratiatingly blossoming effect it had on the dwindling crop; when embedded in soil as pinches of raw manure.

Don’t blame the profusely spike studded shoe for abrading your dainty feet; acting as a gruesome barricade to fresh spurts of air; from seeping inside,

Try and see instead; the astronomical tenacity it offered to your nimble soles; to transgress undaunted; even through the most acrimoniously swirling fires.

Don’t blame the earthquake for treacherously devastating empty buildings; engendering the waves of the fabulous ocean to escalate taller than the skies,

Try and see instead; the celestial rivulets of water it perpetuated; in the heart

of miserably arid land.

Don’t blame the silvery sea shores for inhabiting a battalion of venomously lethal spiders; raring to feast on immaculate chunks of innocent flesh,

Try and see instead; the unfathomable amounts of relaxation they provided to dreary adventurers; the perpetually mystical avenue they proved for lovers before tying the nuptial knot.

Don’t blame the clouds in the cosmos for fomenting a thunderously cacophonic noise; clashing mercilessly against each other to produce streaks of frightening lightening,

Try and see instead; the mesmerizing droplets of rain they showered; the life yielding streams of vivacious liquid which poured in ferocious torrents on pathetically groaning soil.

Don’t blame the kettle for fulminating in tumultuous heat; scalding innocuous bits of skin with hostile droplets of sizzling liquid,

Try and see instead the heavenly rejuvenation it imparted; with only infinitesimal sips of it; gently dribbling into the gloomy persona.

Don’t blame the conscience for being blatantly candid; blurting out things which could have been well camouflaged in realms of astute manipulation and malice,

Try and see instead the stupendously comforting bliss that it provided to the countenance; the most explicit identity it endeavored to reveal of a man dying in

embarrassing despair.

And don’t blame life for being tyrannical and satanically cruel; whipping you  every unfurling second with the sword of inexplicable disease compounded with treacherous pain,

Try and see instead its irrefutably sacred virtue; the infinite buckets of voluptuously passionate breath you   inhaled to be living this very moment; survive at your

unprecedented best in the most horrific of times.