I INCONSOLABLY DIED

5 0 0
                                    

Buried under an unfathomable forest of diabolically perpetuating thorns; I still managed to rise up like a handsome prince; unfettered by the livid bruises gorily fretting on every element of my persona,

Buried under an unsurpassable mountain of truculently asphyxiating dust; I still managed to rise up like a silken butterfly; not bothered even an infinitesimal trifle about the obnoxiously adulterated mud which had now become an integral part of my intestine,

Buried under an unrelenting corpse of macabre ghosts; I still managed to rise up like a resplendently blissful rainbow; blazing like triumphant dynamite through the fathomless expanse of crystalline blue sky,

Buried under a incomprehensibly preposterous dustbin of ungainly shit; I still managed to rise up like a mystically vibrant cloud; unperturbed by the disdainfully slandering slime incorrigibly sticking to my nubile skin,

Buried under a graveyard of coldbloodedly invidious and stinking bones; I still managed to rise up like a royally fragrant rose; disseminating the scent of eternal righteousness to the most fathomless quarter of this rhapsodically heavenly planet,

Buried under a pernicious jailhouse of venomously abhorrent scorpions; I still managed to rise up like an ingratiatingly panoramic cistern; astoundingly pacifying even the most tumultuously aggrieved sorrow; with the sounds of unparalleled optimism,

Buried under an insurmountably feckless cauldron of prurient abuse; I still managed to rise up like a majestically iridescent eagle; engendering an untamed gorge of impregnable exuberance in even the most mercurially fugitive cranny of this; timeless planet,

Buried under an intransigently crippling sea of horrifically miserable blood; I still managed to rise up like a bountifully eclectic whirlwind; harmoniously enlightening incredulous shades of magnificently articulate versatility; in the lives of all those

lunatically shattered,

Buried under an indescribably malignant sandstorm of prejudiced ignominy; I still managed to rise up like a patriotically victorious soldier; instilling an unassailable wave of uninhibited freedom; in every slave being unreasonably lambasted,

Buried under a tyrannically thrashing volcano of scurrilous monotony; I still managed to rise up like a spell bindingly rejuvenated paradise; spreading a wave of insuperably unprecedented happiness; on even the most clandestinely barren path that I tread,

Buried under a crematorium of chauvinistically relentless dictatorship; I still managed to rise up like thunderbolts of enriching lightening; igniting the lugubriously lackadaisical flames of every dwindling abode; with the philanthropically charismatic elixir of my soul,

Buried under an ominously sordid gutter of remorsefully agonizing malice; I still managed to rise up like a brazenly intrepid adventurer; bringing a smile to the lips of countless ruthlessly orphaned; as I drifted with them into an unending entrenchment of fantasy and mesmerizing odyssey,

Buried under a vindictively hedonistic mortuary of abysmally derogatory lies; I still managed to rise up like an ebulliently unconquerable Sun; ubiquitously wafting the rays of timeless happiness; in every despicably estranged life,

Buried under a ballistically frivolous battalion of emaciated panthers; I still managed to rise up like a bountifully blessed dream; fomenting every drearily insipid and baselessly tortured mind to tirelessly fantasize,

Buried under an indiscriminately jinxed battlefield of squelching crime; I still managed to rise up like undauntedly enchanting moonshine; compassionately warming the complexion of the tawdrily blackened night with; magnetically celestial jubilation,

Buried under an endlessly victimizing juggernaut of uncouthly barbarous ghosts; I still managed to rise up like a benign harbinger of glorious humanity; limitlessly spreading the fragrance of an unshakably united existence; in one and all symbiotically alike,

Buried under an ever augmenting web of disdainfully heinous corruption; I still managed to rise up like an unflinchingly blessing wind; wholesomely silencing the

most dogmatic voices of sinfully penalizing atrocity; with the sounds of irrefutably sparkling truth,

Buried under an insane mortuary of bellicose lifelessness; I still managed to rise up like an arrow of perennial bravery; handsomely inculcating the virtue of innocuously embellished solidarity in all those chopping necks; on spurious pretexts of religion

and tribe,

But buried under the worthless plank of insidiously maiming betrayal O! Lord; I had not even the most capricious of strength left in me to survive; as without the immortal love of my priceless beloved; I died; I died; I inevitably and inconsolably died.

1 God - Poems on God , Creator - volume 2Where stories live. Discover now