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

NO PRISON. JUST HEAVEN.

Steal it in such unsurpassably untamed amounts; an infinite times more than
what the last bone of your diminutively shivering spine; could ever
parsimoniously conceive or desire,

Steal it in such ardently unlimited amounts; an infinite times more than what the most rustically crinkled curvature of your lips; could ever nonchalantly conceive or desire,

Steal it in such fanatically unfathomable amounts; an infinite times more than what the most infinitesimal ingredient of your blood; could ever ephemerally conceive or desire,

Steal it in such zealously unstoppable amounts; an infinite times more than what the most indolently unperturbed siesta of yours; could ever ethereally conceive or desire,

Steal it in such boundlessly passionate amounts; an infinite times more than what the most lugubriously withering shadow of yours; could ever nascently conceive or desire,

Steal it in such uninhibitedly fathomless amounts; an infinite times more than what the most dolorously dying nerve of yours; could ever prematurely conceive or desire,

Steal it in such gigantically unfettered amounts; an infinite times more than what the most lazily inconspicuous heartbeat of yours; could ever remotely conceive or desire,

Steal it in such undefeatedly Herculean amounts; an infinite times more than what the most obliviously estranged fantasies of yours; could ever nimbly conceive or desire,

Steal it in such unbelievably gargantuan amounts; an infinite times more than what the most feeblest senses of yours; could ever inconspicuously conceive or desire,

Steal it in such rampantly unhindered amounts; an infinite times more than what the most heavily drooping of your lids; could ever fugitively conceive or desire,

Steal it in such jubilantly unrestricted amounts; an infinite times more than what the most flailing of your trail; could ever fractionally conceive or desire,

Steal it in such indisputably unconquerable amounts; an infinite times more
than what the most stingily decrepit dormitory of your brain; could ever
miserly conceive or desire,

Steal it in such indiscriminately uncontrollable amounts; an infinite times
more than what the most tiniest of your identity; could ever flutteringly conceive or desire,

Steal it in such overwhelmingly rhapsodic amounts; an infinite times more than what the most emptiest iota of your existence; could ever evanescently conceive or desire,

Steal it in such immeasurably colossal amounts; an infinite times more than what the most lackadaisically collapsing hair of yours; could ever fleetingly conceive or desire,

Steal it in such enormously irretrievable amounts; an infinite times more than what the most cowardly whispering of your breaths; could ever stingily conceive or desire,

Steal it in such endlessly inexhaustible amounts; an infinite times more than what the most incongruously distorted of your fingertip; could ever faintly conceive or desire,

Steal it in such gluttonously insatiable amounts; an infinite times more than what the most mercurial glint of your eye; could ever primordially conceive or desire,

And steal it as much as you like; an infinite times more than what the most non-existent element of your life could ever conceive or desire; but it was the only stealing on the trajectory of this invincible earth for which you didn't land in ghastly prison; but instead perpetually secured for yourself an unshakable place in the cradle of Omnipresent Heaven,

Such was the unassailably majestic power of eternally proliferating love.