You Die; I Die - Love Poems - Part 4 by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

40. DEAD BEYOND DESCRIPTION 

 

Dead beyond description are those living eyes; which tirelessly harbor the swords of indiscriminately terrorizing hatred and satanic prejudice,

 

Dead beyond description are those living ears; which rapaciously yearn to hear the brutally asphyxiated cries of the pricelessly innocent; every unfurling minute of the day as well as in the ingredients of blackened night,

 

Dead beyond description are those living lips; which remain as frozen as heartlessly white ice; even as enchantingly golden rays of the blazing Sun; compassionately embraced every organism on earth; handsomely alike,

 

Dead beyond description are those living feet; which ludicrously rot in the corpses of cowardice; even as the earth on which they tread was being unsparingly molested by hedonistically torturous traitors of mankind,

 

Dead beyond description are those living fingers; which mercilessly strangulate the divinely silhouette of newborn life; in order to reign spuriously supreme for an infinite more non-existent lifetimes,

 

Dead beyond description are those living teeth; which barbarously pulverize wonderfully evolving life of the womb; on the sadistic pretext of it not belonging to

their vindictively castigating religion,

 

Dead beyond description are those living veins; which salaciously betray even the most perpetually bonding of relationships; for just an infinitesimally tawdry

bundle of feckless currency notes,

 

Dead beyond description are those living shoulders; which listlessly while away every blessed moment of their existence; carrying the coffins of unsurpassably massacring lies,

 

Dead beyond description are those living eyelids; which bat down in due obeisance to the world of anarchically decrepit corruption and the mortuary of wickedly wastrel politics,

 

Dead beyond description are those living shadows; which devilishly pretend as parasitically delinquent ghosts; scurrilously scaring holistically breathing mankind without any ostensible reason or rhyme,

 

Dead beyond description are those living nails; which diabolically erase every effulgently mesmerizing destiny line of the palm; with insidiously

traumatizing slavery of the most unprecedented degree,

Dead beyond description are those living cheeks; which metamorphose into fretfully lackadaisical and amorphously decaying skeletons; even when embraced by the most perennially coalescing of camaraderie,

 

Dead beyond description are those living intestines; which solely feast on other’s happiness; menacingly waiting their moment to devour every trace of unparalleled ebullience into the unforgiving pyre of murderous hell,

 

Dead beyond description are those living nostrils; which waft venomously  pugnacious blood; endlessly wanting to curse even the most mercurial speck of

civilization with worthless insanity and ominously castigated malice,

 

Dead beyond description are those living tongues; which relentlessly wail for the cause of vituperatively bawdy injustice; egregiously marauding the fabric of eternally resplendent truth from every conceivable side,

 

Dead beyond description are those living skins; which are unimaginably numb to even the most effusively heart-rendering cries of whipped humanity; celebrating

till fathomless heights above the heavens even as the closest of their kin evaporated,

 

Dead beyond description are those living souls; which unrelentingly foster the spirit of cannibalistic war and rampant bloodshed; uncouthly baying for their compatriot’s blood; even when the Creator afforded them with a majestic survival to thrive,

 

Dead beyond description are those living arms; which intransigently dig graves of malevolently treacherous fanaticism all day; instead of gloriously perspiring

under the Omnipotently golden Sun,

 

And dead beyond description are those living hearts; which throb unceasingly and till the very end of their destined times all right; but from whom culminated

only the beats of savagely slandering betrayal; in whom there resided nothing but vultures of emotionless hell .

Find Your Next Great Read

Describe what you're looking for in as much detail as you'd like.
Our AI reads your request and finds the best matching books for you.

Showing results for ""

Popular searches:

Romance Mystery & Thriller Self-Help Sci-Fi Business