If You Cut a Tree; You Cut Your Own Mother – Poems on Environment , Wildlife , Mother Nature , Global Warming by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

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28. SKY OF PIOUS PEACE 

 

The waves emanating from it were astronomically spell

binding; tranquilly pacifying even the most

diabolically traumatized; with the spirit of

Omnipotent humanity,

 

The colors diffusing from it were vivaciously

resplendent; gregariously embellishing even the most

brutally impoverished of entities; with the magic of

eternally compassionate timelessness,

 

The tunes wafting from it were enchantingly

mesmerizing; blissfully placating even the most

inexplicable of miseries of truculently bereaved human kind,

 

The rays wafting from it were Omnipotently uniting;

celestially melanging all religion and tribe; into the

invincible fortress of pricelessly symbiotic sharing,

 

The winds disseminating from it were bountifully

benevolent; philanthropically endowing the sacred

essence of existence to every dwelling; that they

triumphantly gushed into,

 

The droplets cascading from it were Omnisciently

healing; regally soothing even the most tyrannically

macabre of pain; with townships of enthrallingly

beautiful symmetry,

 

The reflections exuding from it were majestically

ubiquitous; in which every organism alive; could

innocuously perceive the essence of its harmoniously

synergistic survival,

 

The mists floating from it were triumphantly

tantalizing; marvelously engendering a cradle of

silken paradise; even in the hearts of the most

salaciously monotonous and devilish murderers,

 

The leaves whistling from it were aristocratically

gregarious; royally bringing even the most

fathomlessly distant and prejudiced quarters of the

earth; to collectively replenish themselves with the

fruits of heavenly fructifying nature,

 

The shadows flowing from it were immaculately ingratiating; irrefutably cleansing the heinously despicable soul with the rhythm of unconquerable righteousness,

 

The beats pulsating from it were perpetually vibrant;

handsomely revolving the threads of the entire

civilization; with levers of magnetically sparkling

and unparalleled truth,

 

The rivers tumbling from it were perennially rhapsodic; transcending past the spuriously parsimonious entrenchments of abhorrent manipulation; to spawn a valley of unsurpassably impregnable sensuousness,

 

The melody gallivanting from it was magnificently

iridescent; victoriously towering over even the most

insipidly mercurial iota of gruesome badness; with its

profoundly unassailable sweetness,

 

The empathy fulminating from it was stupendously

unshakable; forming bonds of ubiquitously serene

companionship; between the disastrously penurious and

powerhouses of ostentatious wealth; alike,

 

The charisma unveiling from it was incomprehensibly

fantastic; casting its spell of exhilaratingly

ebullient fantasy; upon all those with an immaculately

affable heart,

 

The numerals pouring from it were spotlessly

undefeatable; irrevocably portraying the flag of

blazing victory; at even the most minuscule turn that

the earth took and enchantingly radiated into,

 

The breath dispersing from it was undeterrably

unflinching; instilling boundless caverns of life and

luck into the lives of even those; morbidly

disintegrated and countless feet beneath their graves,

 

The love circulating from it was immortally

inimitable; Omnipresently deluging the life of every

deplorably devastated entity; with universally

sparkling and poignant togetherness,

 

It needed no pretentions; caste; creed; wealth or

power to purchase; it needed no specific township to

occupy; as it was ready to divinely assimilate into

every heart harmoniously willing to accept it; be the

timeless jewel of every immaculate eye; such was the

everlastingly princely SKY OF PIOUS PEACE.