Life = Death - volume 9 - Poems on Life , Death

I WAS FED UP

I was fed up of being parasitically dependant,
Not of my irrevocable weight; inevitably squelching loose chunks of soil as I walked.

I was fed up of being worthlessly pampered,
Not of my unrelenting festoon of fantasies; which tirelessly cuddled me; beyond the ultimate epitomes of mesmerizing enthrallment.

I was fed up of going to manipulatively uncouth office,
Not of indefatigably working to achieve my art; rise to be the absolute best in my romantically voluptuous passions of existence.

I was fed up of being sympathetically fed,
Not of rightfully earning my share of appetizing meal; from earth's fathomless reserve of ravishingly bountiful endowment.

I was fed up of ostentatiously spurious relationships,
Not of blending with bonds of eternal love and philanthropic friendship; making me the richest entity alive on the trajectory of this boundless Universe.

I was fed up with cowards who were infidel,
Not of innocuously bouncing infants; capriciously changing their moods; even as the winds nimbly changed the slightest of their direction.

I was fed up of taking things for granted,
Not of the wonderfully intrinsic processes of my body; which functioned like astoundingly meticulous clockwork all night and day; to keep me blissfully alive.

I was fed up of casual approaches to lead life,
Not of the serene calm which enveloped my mind; propelling me to focus on the unsurpassable myriad of things; yet to be destined.

I was fed up of being tyrannically dictated,
Not of being a perennially obedient slave of true love; bowing down in revered obeisance to the flower of humanity; which invincibly lingered all over the planet.

I was fed up of youth staring lackadaisically towards fading horizons,
Not of the intrepidly endowed soldier; who sacrificed his life for his motherland; without even batting an eye.

I was fed up witnessing people polishing the shoes of their pompously inflated boss,
Not of the patriotic stalwarts; kissing their goals incessantly even while in their sleep; hugging inseparably to their benevolent mission in life.

I was fed up of ghastly war and indiscriminate bloodshed,
Not of the unfathomable rebel in my soul; which resolved to scrap injustice and hatred; from the tiniest core of their non-existent roots.

I was fed up of the mockingly hollow rules of the conventional society,
Not of my stringently incorrigible conviction to fight till I shed the last iota of breath; for the soul mate of my life.

I was fed up of the shadows of the ominously evil,
Not of the most magnanimous reflections of sharing; the unconquerable shimmers of unity that remained alive even after sunset.

I was fed up of the brutally insensitive odor of profound commercialism,
Not of the golden perspiration that melodiously cascaded down my palms; gloriously depicting the blissfully enduring fruits of my wholehearted turmoil.

I was fed up of lecherously sinister betrayal,
Not of the wilderness of my rampantly throbbing heart; which made me exuberantly explore in a million different directions; every unleashing minute.

I was fed up of bombastically assisted at each conjecture of survival,
Not of the impregnable power of my conscience; which made me unflinchingly confront the most acrimonious of obstacle; with fireballs of faith engulfing my eyes.

And I was fed up of treacherously chained life,
Not of the immortal spirit of existence; which was so strong; that it made live an infinite lives more; even though I wanted to die.