You Die; I Die - Love Poems - Part 2 by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

12. SOMETIMES  

Sometimes more tender than a new born child; nostalgically remembering those moments when it was just born,

Sometimes as ferocious as thunderbolts of lightening in the sky; capsizing everyone around; in the tumultuous agony of its insatiable desire .

Sometimes more mystical than the dungeons infinite feet beneath obdurate soil; harboring a festoon of secrets impossible to comprehend,

Sometimes as candid as a mirror; blurting out its innermost of feelings like a parrot on a talking spree .

Sometimes more colorful than the resplendent rainbow in the cosmos; disseminating its myriad of boundless colors to every entity on this planet,

Sometimes as dolorous as the dying soul; painstakingly withering away towards its inevitably horrendous grave .

Sometimes more blistering than the fulminating volcano; casting its enchanting spell on every philanthropic being on this globe,

Sometimes as cowardly as the worm; disappearing into its diminutive den; as the slightest insinuation of fading light .

Sometimes more fast than the cyclonic whirlwind; instilling a wave of ebullient euphoria in every pathetically diminishing body,

Sometimes as reticent as the infinitesimally silent whisper; which even it didn’t posses the capacity to hear .

Sometimes more fathomless than the entire richness of this world; sharing its priceless forms with all who badly needed it,

Sometimes as slithering miserly in the caves of nothingness; begging for mercy; to whomsoever who came its way .

Sometimes more invincible than the most ultimate point of existence; sequestering the righteous from each conceivable acrimonious storm,

Sometimes as collapsing like a pack of burnt cards; even before the wind blew a trifle its way .

Sometimes more divinely than the Creator who evolved it; incarcerating all the mesmerizing beauty of this planet in its inner most core,

Sometimes as dastardly as the diabolical devil; advancing menacingly towards the destruction of living kind .

O! yes the HUMAN HEART, was Sometimes more passionate than the gift called life; perpetually bonding those who loved each other for immortal times,

While Sometimes as treacherous as the satanic scorpion; betraying its own beats; which it once upon a time irrefutably adored .