AuthorsDen.com   Join | Login    
Where Authors and Readers come together!

SIGNED BOOKS    AUTHORS    BOOKS    SAMPLE CHAPTERS    AUDIOBOOKS    eBOOKS    STORIES    ARTICLES    POETRY    BLOGS    NEWS    VIDEOS    SUCCESS    TESTIMONIALS

Featured Authors:  Roxanne Howe-Murphy, iDavid Young, iBryon Smith, iDr. Patrick ODougherty, iRiley Blake, iPamela Wiedenbeck, iEdward Patterson, iTerry Vinson, iFERIAL Haque, iLloydene Hill, i

  Home > Poetry > Poetry        Popular: Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry        Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z     

Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet

 Follow Me  

· Contact Me
· Books
· Poetry
· News
· 2,178 Titles
· 17 Reviews
· Save to My Library
· Share with Friends!
·
Member Since: Feb, 2002

Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet, click here to update your pages on AuthorsDen.



As If The Most Ultimate Of Kings.
by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet → (All Poetry by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet)
Tuesday, March 15, 2016    Rated "G" by the Author.
Share   Print  Save   Follow   Share on Facebook

 It might have been to viciously slander me; venomously dissolve me like a piece of frigid shit; an infinite kilometers well beneath the murderous corpses of all times, 

 
It might have been to reproachfully lambaste me; treacherously blow me forever and ever and ever away; into the graveyards of lethally stabbing and shriveled oblivion, 
 
It might have been to sadistically comment upon my impoverished form; perennially ensure that it floated like the most lackadaisically frazzled carcass of misery; in between heaven and disparaging hell, 
 
It might have been to decimate me beyond realms of holistic recognition; before devilishly feeding every ounce of my wretchedly decaying carrion; to the hideously scavenging and cold-blooded vultures, 
 
It might have been to wholesomely defeat every trace of my tangible existence; compassionately beseech the most uncouthly truculent demons to excoriate me into a
boundless bits of disastrously terrorizing nothingness, 
 
It might have been to wantonly taint even the most unassailably righteous fabric of my harmonious survival; with the pathetically asphyxiating grime of dastardly lies, 
 
It might have been to announce my loss in mind; body and jubilant form; to the trajectory of this fathomlessly enchanting planet; whereas I still exuberantly paraded in the aisles of indefatigably fructifying utopia, 
 
It might have been to ghoulishly bemoan every bit of philanthropic goodness that I divulged into; salaciously dragging my name into the coffins of hedonistically flagrant corruption, 
 
It might have been to deliriously torture every bounteously fantasizing fragment of my brain; with the inconsolably weeping broomsticks of tyrannizing malice, 
 
It might have been to Spartanly order every rabid dog on this poignantly ubiquitous planet; to summon as  quickly as possible near my innocuous face; and then
intransigently bite the same as if there wasn't the slightest of sunset, 
 
It might have been to unstoppably ridicule me; make a blatantly intolerable parody about each of my weaknesses; to every organism effulgently breathing on planet divine, 
 
It might have been to satanically deafen even the most infinitesimal of my senses; numb every gloriously conceivable movement of my nimble body; with the cries
of outrageously maniacal extinction, 
 
It might have been to unrelentingly drag me to the gallows of heartlessly maiming confinement; impugning me of the highest treason ever committed on earth; which I never ever die or could dream to do, 
 
It might have been to mercilessly pounce upon every imaginable penny of my unflinching perseverance; wickedly burn the same into parasitically sordid
flames of lecherous hatred, 
 
It might have been to timelessly jinx every euphorically benign aspect of my existence; with the brutally ominous chains of nothingness and the lull of
melancholic debauchery; which suddenly arouse after blissful life, 
 
It might have been to violently molest every ingredient of my unimpeachable virginity; with the acrimoniously fetid dagger-heads of garrulously rancid
war, 
 
It might have been to metamorphose every bit of pricelessly inimitable truth in my soul; into the most atrociously degradable mortuary of sinfully beheading lies, 
 
It might have been to perpetually snap the fangs of my symbiotically enthralling existence; and then bawdily suck all lifeless blood from my veins to be the most
sanctimoniously strongest organism alive, 
 
And I really didn't have the tiniest of insinuation as to what were your intentions everytime you opened your mouth for uttering my name; but believe me; everytime
when you did actually whisper my name in your sensuously unparalleled voice; I felt the most pricelessly insuperable man alive; as if the most ultimate of Kings; on this unshakably limitless earth divine.

Want to review or comment on this poem?


Need a FREE Reader Membership?

Popular Poetry (Poetry)
  1.  Catching Happiness...
  2.  Finding Trust Again
  3.  Nightsky
  4.  Reality of Another Kind
  5.  Spindrift
  6.  Kindness
  7.  Our Restless Minds
  8.  Luxury of Solitude
  9.  In The Still of The Night
  10.  Dream Just a Dream
  11.  Life's Enormous Green Chest
  12.  Sediment Within the Soul
  13.  Roadkill Memoriam
  14.  Hunting for Truth
  15.  Whisper Pens
  16.  In Praise of Anonymity
  17.  I Have Spent My Entire Life
  18.  Shaved Reflections
  19.  Feeling Lonely
  20.  Serrated Smiles
Free Book Review Program
Select a book to read and review today!

Still Living on my Feet by Tichaona Chinyelu

Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep  
Member BookAds

Key of Mist by Robin Ouzman Hislop

The Poems of Guadalupe Grande La llave de niebla (2003) Key of Mist Translated from Spanish by Robin Ouzman Hislop & Amparo Arrospide  
Member BookAds