Play insidiously with my eyes; eventually smashing them into a boundless halves; and then feeding them to the pack of savagely diabolical wolves,
Play uncouthly with my fantasies; eventually metamorphosing them into a web of cold-blooded drudgery and sinfully disparaging monotony,
Play ruthlessly with my palms; eventually pulverizing them to disdainfully squashed curry; and then stashing them into the indescribably gory coffins,
Play invidiously with my lips; eventually snatching away even the most infinitesimal iota of their smiles; stoning them with whiplashes of utter abhorrence for centuries immemorial,
Play heinously with my voice; eventually transforming it into a graveyard of ominously crippling silence; evicting it in gruesomely wholesome entirety from the innermost realms of my throat,
Play grotesquely with my neck; eventually reducing it to a pile of inconspicuously mangled shit; and then feeding it to the rambunctiously unruly pigs,
Play raunchily with my ears; eventually bombarding them like miserably orphaned stones; making them incessantly bleed till times beyond infinite infinity,
Play disastrously with my memory; eventually rendering me the most penuriously kicked entity on this gigantic Universe; making me obnoxiously oblivious to even the reflection of my very own countenance,
Play barbarically with my intestines; eventually adulterating them profoundly with threadbare gasoline; and then inviting the unfathomable horde of vultures to have their ultimate feast,
Play indiscriminately with my cheeks; eventually excoriating their exhilarating blush into the graveyards of penalizing nothingness; and then mercilessly disintegrating them bit by bit; like an edifice of soggy cards,
Play ghoulishly with my conscience; eventually poisoning every bit of its irrefutably sparkling righteousness; into a lackadaisically decaying dungeon of manipulatively bizarre lies,
Play devilishly with my flamboyance; eventually converting it into an entrenchment of remorsefully trembling timidness; making me lick fetid dirt even before I could alight a single foot,
Play fiendishly with my patriotism; eventually rendering me as the most lecherously disgusting traitor on this unsurpassable globe; with every corner of the society brutally whipping me for my plethora of horrific misdeeds,
Play bewitchingly with my innocence; eventually dragging me into the salaciously sleazily markets; where infinite parasites traded me for my innocuously resplendent flesh,
Play unsparingly with my hair; eventually converting my enchanting scalp into a cacophonically bald egg; with pedestrians spitting on it in livid nonchalance;
as they merrily trespassed by,Play demonically with my feet; eventually chopping them with sordid strokes of the treacherous cleaver; and then witnessing the entire world wholeheartedly guffaw; as I staggered like a mercurial ant on every step,
Play abominably with my soul; eventually converting its path of unassailable philanthropism; into a despicably wandering ghost without the slightest of
purpose or mission in vibrantly vivacious life,Play lethally with my breath; eventually asphyxiating the fangs of my priceless existence with the blood stained hands of hell; removing even the most evanescent trace of my survival from the trajectory of this fathomless planet,
And you could play and eventually smash any part of my body; my mind; my soul; as I still had the insurmountable tenacity to lead mesmerizing life; but please don't break my heart; please don't lackadaisically play with the immortal paradise of my true love for you O! Beloved; as then I wouldn't even be accepted by the chapter of death .
YOU ARE READING
You die; I die - Love Poems - Part 8
PoetryThis Book which has 50 differently titled Poems is actually Part 8 of the Book titled - You die; I die - Love Poems ( 1600 pages ) . Poems symbolizing the immortality of love and at times its fickleness. Parekh takes the reader through a paradise n...