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Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet

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Without Life
by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet → (All Poetry by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet)
Sunday, March 20, 2016    Rated "G" by the Author.
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 Without him I was indeed a Sun; but without my fiery set of flamboyant rays, 

 
Without him I was indeed a tree; but without my entire conglomerate of green leaves and resplendent petals, 
 
Without him I was indeed a panther; but without my ferociously deafening roar, 
 
Without him I was indeed a mammoth book; but without my grandiloquent set 
of alphabets and words, 
 
Without him I was indeed a fire; but without my dynamically sizzling repertoire of golden flames, 
 
Without him I was indeed a lock; but without my power and invincible grace to protect the blissful dwelling, 
 
Without him I was indeed a mountain; but without my handsome summit; which once upon a time used to tower handsomely towards the open sky, 
 
Without him I was indeed a bar of chocolate; but without my sweetness and delectable charisma; rotting fetidly in an obsolete heap, 
 
Without him I was indeed a pair of rubicund lips; but without my voluptuously seductive and congenial smiles, 
 
Without him I was indeed an ocean; but without my flurry of ravishingly mesmerizing and supremely salty waves, 
 
Without him I was indeed a cloud; but without my globules of life yielding and sparkling rain, 
 
Without him I was indeed a house; but without my inevitable network of fortified doors and transparent windows, 
 
Without him I was indeed a rose; but without my stupendously alluring perfume and Kingly redolence which I used to waft every second across this boundless Universe, 
 
Without him I was indeed a car; but without my steering wheel; maneuvering wildly towards the valley of death as each moment unfurled by, 
 
Without him I was indeed a butterfly; but without my hinges of opalescent wings; lying dilapidated in a remote heap; well cloistered away from blatant sight, 
Without him I was indeed a desert; but without my glistening fleet of unsurpassable sands and the long line of ambling camels; which used to mark my existence, 
 
Without him I was indeed a road; but without any direction; slithering helplessly on the ground; trying to search for my mooring under the devil's breath, 
 
Without him I was indeed a diamond; but without my scintillating radiance 
and tenaciously omnipotent shine, 
 
Without him I was indeed a mouth; but without my speech and decaying in mute oblivion for the remainder of my tyrannized life, 
 
Without him I was indeed an eye; but without my tears; staring lifelessly and for times greater than eternity into satanic space, 
 
Without him I was indeed a stone; but without my ability to produce thunderous noise, 
 
Without him I was indeed a clown; but without any ability to make people leap in ecstatic melody and leap, 
 
Without him I was indeed a sleep; but without my dreams and unprecedented 
realms of tantalizing fantasy, 
 
Without him I was indeed a palm; but without my battalion of profoundly embossed and divinely destiny lines, 
 
Without him I was indeed a heart; but without my overwhelming reservoir 
of passionately palpitating beats, 
 
Without him I was indeed a soul; but without my conscience or knowing the slightest about the spirit of my existence, 
 
And without God I was simply a Man; who although appeared to be normally breathing on the streets; but was irrefutably shivering and without life.

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