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

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28. PEOPLE MORE CRIMINAL THAN HIM.

 

What kind of a person must he be; indiscriminately trampling even the most

infinitesimal trace of civilization that dared come his cadaverous way? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; exuding countless tumblers of wastrel spit; upon the divinely impeccable contours of his father and inimitably venerated mother? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; ruthlessly asphyxiating even the last breath of the fetus in the godly mothers womb; just because it was of a pristinely blessed girl? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; sadistically brewing up only human brains

on his treacherously satanic stove; to mollify every ingredient of his hunger for the brilliantly sweltering day and sweet-dish for the remainder of the sinister night? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; gorily selling his mother and daughters for parsimonious wads of money; just in order that he bathed and slept in tubs of tawdrily decrepit sleaze and wine? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; perpetually perpetuating a gunshot straight through the skull; at the slightest insinuation of denial? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; uncouthly annihilating even the most evanescent trace of forest and enchanting wildlife; to erect robotic coffins of the politician on the foundation of pricelessly innocent blood? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; timelessly praying solely for the wholesome destruction of every element of victorious existence; psychotically licking the footprints of the hedonistic devil; till infinite infinity? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; ghoulishly using cisterns of scarlet blood to cleanse even the most non-existently inane pore of his skin; after sacrilegiously eviscerating the same from countless celestial lives? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; defecating the very last impediment in his

tyrannically wanton bowels upon the countenance of jubilantly infallible truth; every unfurling instant of the day and murderous night? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; ghastily crunching bones of innocuous living children into inconspicuous chowder; just to relieve the zanily diabolical itching in the corpse of his devilish teeth? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; ignominiously condemning and ostracizing

the rules of the Omnipresent Creator; barking every abuse in the dictionary towards the grace of the invincible Almighty Lord? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; unrelentingly wanting to become the ultimate patriarch of the entire planet; at the cost of unceasing terror and abhorrently fetid war? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; bawdily plucking out the whites of every eye that he encountered in his lifetime; just to bizarrely play a game of lascivious marbles with the same and till endless eternity? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; dementedly digging deeper and deeper into the corpse of dead living organisms; instead of proliferating into triumphantly astounding newness like the sacred mother soil? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; demonically chopping the tongue of every old man and woman; just in order to uxoriously cleanse the squalid soles of his bohemian foot with the same? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; whose sole mission in life was to wholesomely metamorphose every bit of resplendent truth into stinking lies; who interminably strived to snap the wings of immortal love forever and ever and ever? 

 

What kind of a person must he be; ominously wanting to thrust the mask of

delirious depression upon the first unfettered rays of the Omniscient Sun; overpower everything on the trajectory of this fathomless Universe; with the cannibalistic blackness of crime?  

 

O.K, for a moment lets leave him aside. For people more criminal; people more diabolically perverted; people more psychotically preposterous were you; me; and everyone else on this boundless earth; who had time to crazily read; ardently write; inexhaustibly fantasize; intricately analyze all this as mentioned above about him; when we had much brilliantly effulgent things to do and relish in our lives; rather than bother about a man such as HIM and every of his lifeless kind.