You Die; I Die - Part 1 - 50 Poems for Soul Stirring Love by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

17. VICTORY WAS FOREVER MINE. 

Even the most disastrously crippled states of my persona; had in them

an overwhelming scent of irrefutably sparkling and mesmerizing victory,

Even the most disdainfully beleaguered and despairingly blood shot eyes of

mine; had in them an incorrigible flavor of unconquerably fascinating and

indefatigably everlasting victory,

Even the most horrendously grotesque contours of my lambasted face; had in

them a fathomless rainbow of vivaciously enchanting and spell bindingly blazing victory,

Even the most disparagingly staggering stride of mine; had in it an unsurpassable entrenchment of patriotically unshakable and scintillating victory,

Even the most diminutively tyrannized of voices that emanated from my throat; had in them a bountiful cloud of unbelievably supreme and blistering victory,

Even the most swelteringly unrelenting sweat that poured incessantly from my

armpits; had in it an unfathomable garden of beautifully resplendent and

harmonious victory,

Even the most despicably bleeding and gruesomely disintegrated nerves of mine; had in them an unsurpassable path of flamboyantly charismatic and ever-pervading victory,

Even the most treacherously mutilated and severed lips of mine; had in them

a celestial paradise of stupendously smiling and enchanting victory,

Even the most drearily wavering shadows of mine; had in them an Omnipotent

Sun of impregnably gratifying and majestic victory,

Even the most abominably shrunken and whipped teeth of mine; had in them a

tenacious fortress of philanthropically benign and indisputable victory,

Even the most rustically bohemian and sordidly chapped feet of mine; had in

them a flaming inferno of boundless glittering and timeless victory,

Even the most wretchedly torn and wholesomely threadbare pockets of mine;

had in them an unassailable carpet of fabulously silken and priceless victory,

Even the most preposterously shaggy and insanely thrashed hair of mine;

had in them an jubilant castle of euphorically gorgeous and ingratiating

victory,

Even the most rickety decaying and pulverized bones of mine; had in them a

perennial cloudburst of blissfully reinvigorating and timeless victory,

Even the most traumatically besieged brain chords of mine; had in them a

perpetual heaven of regally symbiotic and sensuously overpowering victory,

Even the most rambunctiously unruly and debilitating musings of mine; had in

them a ubiquitous sky of unflinchingly uninhibited and gloriously embellished victory,

Even the most timid voices of my severely penalized and wailing conscience; had in them an immutable cavern of truthfully succeeding and royal victory,

And even the most torturously asphyxiated and acrimoniously beaten of my dwindling breaths; had in them an Omniscient cosmos of ebulliently Godly and

unparalleled victory,

As wholesomely irrespective of how the murderously conventional society tried to assassinate each iota of my body; wholesomely irrespective of the unprecedented anguish that every pore of my countenance had to singularly undergo; wholesomely irrespective of the curse of ghoulish death that confronted me on every step that I tread for not adhering to the norms of salacious rigidity,

I knew I would be always triumphant; and victory would always be the Omnipresent glint of my eyes; the ecstasy of my stride; as I followed none other than the voices of my passionately throbbing heart; forever and ever and ever .