The Sun might slowly and slowly lose all its
ferociously blazing rays; remorsefully withering
behind the languid horizons; for times immemorial,
The stars might slowly and slowly lose all their
scintillating shimmer; eventually appearing as
nonchalantly lackadaisical stones in the firmament of
fathomlessly barren sky,
The oceans might slowly and slowly lose all their
ravishingly tangy salt; sullenly metamorphosing into
boundless kilometers of corrugated dry rubble and
worthlessly invidious sand,
The deserts might slowly and slowly lose all their
regally fascinating majesty; disdainfully transforming
into obsolete mirages of derogatorily dilapidated
despondence,
The mountains might slowly and slowly lose all their
unconquerably shimmering peaks; being transited into
capriciously fugitive dust; as ghastly earthquakes
tumultuously plundered them,
The roses might slowly and slowly lose all their
enchantingly enamoring redolence; limply shedding all
their bountifully burgeoning petals into a livid heap;
for the wastrel parasites to devour,
The forests might slowly and slowly lose all their
enigmatically jubilant trees; ludicrously shriveling
into a cadaverously macabre heap; as the onslaught of
inclement drought austerely tightened its pugnacious
grip,
The Moon might slowly and slowly lose all its
resplendently milky shimmer; eventually succumbing
like a diminutive mosquito; to the thunderously
diabolical conglomerate of obnoxiously grey clouds,
The soldier might slowly and slowly lose all his
irrefutably dazzling integrity; uxoriously yielding
the secrets of his motherland; in order to save his
skin from hedonistically indescribable torture,
The nightingale might slowly and slowly lose all its
astoundingly mellifluous charisma; pathetically
plummeting into an eternal slumber out of sheer
tiredness; even as the atmosphere outside died a
billion times every minute; without its golden voice,
The mirror might slowly and slowly lose all its
unequivocally righteous sparkle; shattering into an
infinite pieces of grotesquely cacophonic distortion;
at the slightest cry of the satanically rampaging
devil,
The fortress might slowly and slowly lose all its
invincibly Herculean strength; obnoxiously crumbling
like a pack of frigidly lugubrious cards; as its
foundations inexplicably gave away,
The sky might slowly and slowly lose all its
beautifully iridescent effulgence; being horrifically
adulterated by monotonously venomous spacecrafts and
indiscriminately pulverizing missiles,
The bones might slowly and slowly lose all their
unflinchingly altruistic tenacity; eventually falling
a lame prey to the vagaries of the maliciously
parasitic and ruthlessly conventional society,
The clocks might slowly and slowly lose all their
meticulously fantastic essence of time; as the
electric pace of maligned viciousness in the colossal
planet today; insatiably overshadowed them with their
bane,
The clouds might slowly and slowly lose all their
voluptuously tantalizing moisture; dreadfully
vanishing into the corpses of insipidly fretful
meaninglessness; as the blanket of panoramically
fructifying green disappeared from the trajectory of
this fathomless Universe,
The conscience might slowly and slowly lose all its
magnificently aristocratic armor of spell binding
truth; to inevitably survive amidst the pack of
vengefully marauding and manipulatively decrepit
wolves,
The nostril might slowly and slowly lose all its
vivaciously exuberant breath; with the graveyards of
truculently penalizing death perniciously creeping in
from every conceivable side,
But come what may; the doors of my passionately
fulminating heart will always be open for you; and
even if I had to take an infinite births yet again; I
will never lose even an evanescent iota of my
patience; I will forever wait for you; you and till
the time you make me your breath; forever make me only
you….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
