Life = Death - Volume 9 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

30. TORTUROUS GHOST 

 

Neither could I feel the tiniest iota of thirst; Neither could I feel even an inconspicuously ethereal sensation in my lifelessly fetid skin,

 

Neither could I experience the slightest ounce of pain; Neither could I perceive the most remotest definition of spell-binding fantasy in my dolorously deadened brain,

 

Neither did I have the most transiently vanishing of desire; Neither did I feel it the slightest that I was indefatigably walking on the trajectory of this earth; greedily relishing the acrimoniously unsavory midnight,

 

Neither did I posses the most obfuscated of integrity; Neither did I bleed an infinitesimal trifle; even when stabbed with an infinite million knives of the rampaging devil,

 

Neither could I  be seen by living beings celestially breathing alive; Neither could I be sighted by even the most amorphously non-existent of satanically vanquishing 

entities,

 

Neither did I exist on holistically succulent food and water; Neither did I consume even an ounce of air for times and centuries immemorial,

 

Neither could I procreate my own progeny; Neither did I have even the most oblivious trace of sibling; who could address me by my meaningless name,

 

Neither could I ever try and express myself; Neither did I let even the most cloistered spectrum of expression escape from the heart of this fathomless planet,

 

Neither did I ever rise even a pathetic centimeter from my grave a boundless feet beneath mud; Neither could the most contemporary super-powers of the world harm even a whisker of my wantonly blundering soul,

 

Neither did I smile a fraction in the tenure of my life; Neither did an emotional tear ever escape from the whites and blacks of my eye; for a countless more births of  mine,

 

Neither could the greatest of philosophers and saints ever understand me; Neither did the most invisible of flame rise in the sky even after I was brutally

and wholesomely burnt alive,

 

Neither did I relent the slightest to the most abhorrently demoralizing of abuse; Neither did I posses even the most evanescent shadow of a conscience and

the elements of truth,

Neither did I dissipate into a billion pieces when fed into the lethal grinding machine; Neither was I born out of any mother or father on the soil of this unflinchingly  adventurous Universe,

 

Neither did I reminisce upon my past; present and future; Neither did the advancing of age have the most mercurial of impact upon my persona; as I towered taller than the tallest of mountains; even on my 1 millionth birthyear,

 

Neither did I have even the most ephemeral droplet of blood circulating through my veins; Neither did I have flesh at all; as every ingredient of my body was a ghoulishly assassinated and sacrilegious skull,

 

Neither was I ever successful in sighting my reflection; Neither could anybody ever get the most fugitive innuendo of my inhabitation; even though I galloped taller than the skies; in brilliantly unfettered daylight,

 

Neither did I have the most stingily decrepit of virility; Neither did I let even the most disappearing dimension of newness ever proliferate till limitless kilometers  around me,

 

Neither had I the most obsolete cognition of literacy; Neither did I use my feet to move; as I lay suspended like a unabashedly wastrel scarecrow from the hell of sky; painstakingly crawling my way down the ladders of unimaginable devastation,

 

Neither could I ever glisten in the pink of mesmerizing health; Neither did I give the most inane chance to the chapters of righteousness; to perpetuate into the mortuaries of my unfathomably deathly deliriousness,

 

Neither did I breathe an infidel trifle till the time earth veritably existed and even beyond; Neither did any heart throb in my chest; as all that my body was composed of;  was nothing but the pathetically diabolical gallows of death, 

 

But if there was indeed one thing that I perennially loved to do; that was to scare the guts out of the last bone of your spine in blazing daylight; that was to asphyxiate you to such a death that even death would tremble to define; that was to render you forever and ever and ever in the coffin of nothingness; that was to make you realize that if you indeed believed in the Omnipotent Lord Almighty; it was simply because of me the torturous ghost who couldn’t be defeated by anyone else; but the voice of the Divine.