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:  Dr. Patrick ODougherty, iAntoinette Kopperfield, iLeanne Bright Cloudman, i Armand, iConnie Amarel, iMartin Treon, iRobert Liu, iPeter Jessop, iValerie Boggess, iDonald Beaulieu, 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.



Today- The Most Cursed Day
by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet → (All Poetry by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet)
Sunday, March 20, 2016    Rated "G" by the Author.
Share   Print  Save   Follow   Share on Facebook

 Ordinarily the soles of my feet didn't bleed an infinitesimal trifle; even as I traversed over a blanket of a billion acrimoniously venomous thorns, 

But today; the 3rd of April; they just disdainfully crumbled an infinite feet beneath soil; as the sound of your invincibly triumphant and gloriously impeccable footsteps; had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the hair on my skin didn't relent an inconspicuous iota; even as the most diabolical of dinosaurs and war; indiscriminately paraded around my persona, 
But today; the 3rd of April; they just shriveled into pathetic oblivion at the tiniest insinuation of flaccid wind; as your uninhibitedly untamed valley of sensuousness; had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the blood in my veins didn't quaver an evanescent bit; even as the most unsparingly hedonistic apocalypses of the devil perpetuated into my soul, 
But today; the 3rd of April;  it just metamorphosed into a grotesquely frigid white; as your brilliantly unhindered compassion; had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the hollows of my ears didn't flutter an ethereal inch; even as unbelievably thunderous roars of vindictive lightening; flashed left; right and center from the belly of the murderously ballistic sky, 
But today; the 3rd of April; they just miserably withered to each of my commands; as your inimitably divinely and beautifully unparalleled voice; had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the bones of my demeanor didn't rattle an infidel centimeter; even as the coffins of inevitable death scurrilously slandered at me a countless times, 
But today; the 3rd of April;  they just dissolved into fecklessly meaningless pulp at the sound of my very own voice; as your Omnipotently everlasting tenacity; had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the whites and blacks of my eye didn't wince a mercurial fraction; even as the belligerently intolerable rays of the afternoon Sun unceasingly pierced inside from all quarters, 
But today; the 3rd of April; they just wholesomely blinded to the faintest of my reflection; as the miraculously mitigating contours of your face; had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the cadence of my voice didn't tremble a diminutive whisker; even as there was nothing else but iconoclastically satanic vultures plucking mouthfuls of my flesh; with gay abandon all throughout the night, 
 
But today; the 3rd of April; it just transformed into a cadaverously stony silence; as the Omnipresent smile of your magical lips; had disappeared forever from the
horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the spirit of my conscience didn't stagger a minuscule hairline; even as the entire planet beside me embraced manipulative prejudice; to catapult to the
pinnacle of spuriously lackadaisical success, 
But today; the 3rd of April; it just dissipated into a zillion pieces of nothingness even before it could becaressed; as your trail of perennially blessing righteousness had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
Ordinarily the beats of my heart didn't betray a parsimonious speck; even as egregiously perverted treachery had become everyone's morning cup of tea, 
But today; the 3rd of April; they converted entirely into lifelessly delinquent stone although torrential rainshowers of love pelted all across; as your charismatically immortal shadow had disappeared forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.
 
And ordinarily the air of my nostrils didn't stutter an abstemious ounce; even as the mortuaries of hell personally descended to incarcerate me into doldrums of inane nothingness, 
But today; the 3rd of April; it evaporated a countless kilometers beyond the land of decaying oblivion; although I was impregnated with robust blood; body and bone; as your pristinely unimpeachable and Unconquerably mellifluous spirit; had disappeared
forever from the horizons of my veritable sight.

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!

Coastal Whispers by Jill Eisnaugle

Inspirational poetry, written from the heart and soul. Verses that are well-suited for reading on a rainy day and that are guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.  
Member BookAds

Visions of A Skylark Dressed in Black by Aberjhani

“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to  
Member BookAds

Drifter's Logic by William haynes

a beat take on life, loss and the meaning of it all+  
Member BookAds