Life = Death - Volume 6 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

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9. GRAVE PROBLEMS 

 

 No problems; even if I had to wear the same nonchalantly bedraggled shirt; drape my chest with its disdainfully torn periphery; as the Sun crept up wonderfully in the sky; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to eat the same lugubriously lackadaisical chunks of leftover bread dissolved in gutter water; as the Sun unfurled from the mesmerizing horizons; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to bathe in the same derogatorily urinated pool of fetidly castigating water; as the Sun enlightened all colossal Universe; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to interact with the same sleazily manipulative people; to sustain my parsimonious livelihood; as the Sun brilliantly sprang up in blue sky; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to answer to the same savagely parasitic devils; as the Sun unveiled into fantastic vibrancy; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to inhabit the same disdainfully dilapidated lavatory; as the Sun cast its flamboyantly Omnipotent rays; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to iterate the same malicious abuses to pave my way amidst torturous ganglords; as the Sun bountifully blossomed into profound radiance; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to sign the same raunchy registers to perpetuate my boss to smile; as the Sun gloriously dazzled in the profusely crimson cosmos; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to frequent the same obsoletely ghoulish and scurrilously crackled roads; as the Sun culminated into a festoon of Omniscient shimmer;  everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to work like an unrelentingly uxorious ass for the same employer; as the Sun fulminated into blazingly overpowering glory; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to adorn the same savagely rusted rings on my nubile fingers; as the Sun wholeheartedly smiled from the heavens; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to meet the same depravingly dastardly cowards; as the Sun majestically removed all traumatized agony with its Omnipresent glow; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to sleep on the same acrimoniously barren treetops; as the Sun enchantingly illuminated even the most infinitesimal cranny of mother earth; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to walk the same number of steps to the remorsefully sulking corporate office; as the Sun gave birth to new rays of prolifically burgeoning hope; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to witness the same vindictively abhorrent impediments in my way; as the Sun beautifully spawned an unfathomable civilization of triumphant happiness; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to drink water from the same flaccidly flatulent tyre tube; as the Sun unraveled into an unassailable entrenchment of divine charisma; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to exist with the same venomously truculent and indiscriminately trampling entities; as the Sun thunderously flamed into everlastingly heavenly light; everyday, 

 

No problems; even if I had to chant the same treacherously nondescript mantra of religion to save my scalp; as the Sun bountifully blessed every organism on this earth one and alike; everyday, 

 

But grave problems; murderously morbid death; salaciously pulverizing bloodshed; lasciviously infinitesimal nothingness; obsessively maniacal frustration; unforgivably diabolical devils; torturously lambasting death; O! Almighty Lord, 

 

If my mind couldn’t spawn into an unsurpassable world of newness; if my mind couldn’t unrelentingly perceive the timelessly mushrooming beauty of this gigantic

Universe; if my mind couldn’t bask in the glory of symbiotically mesmerizing creation for infinite more births yet to come; not just as the Sun showered its first rays of optimism from the sky everyday; but every unveiling instant of the night

as well as day.