1 And 100 Poem by Nikhil Parekh

1 And 100



When I turned 1; I incoherently mumbled threadbare gibberish; although was blossoming every unfurling minute into an entrenchment of unfathomably never-ending newness,
At 100 I still found myself incoherently mumbling threadbare gibberish; but each word of mine irrevocably led me towards; the valley of remorsefully ghastly and torturously inclement death.

When I turned 1; I found even the most vibrantly opalescent of colors as immaculately satiny white; although was blooming with the scent of symbiotic
mankind more ardently as each day unfurled into enchantingly exotic night,
At 100 I still found even the most vibrantly opalescent of colors as immaculately satiny white; but each perception of mine truculently led me towards; the gutterline of squalidly indescribable and baselessly massacring death.

When I turned 1; I gave an inquisitively blank stare at everything alien; although was fascinatingly painting the barren palette of this colossal Universe; with majestically fructifying shades of my innocuous artistry,
At 100 I still found myself giving an inquisitively blank stare at everything alien; but each stare of mine irretrievably led me towards; the corpse of lethally penalizing
and grotesquely vicious death.

When I turned 1; I got thunderously astounded at even the most mercurial speck of sound and light; although was fulminating into a cloudburst of unrelenting energy as each instant unveiled into a wholesome minute,
At 100 I still found myself thunderously astounded at even the most mercurial speck of sound and light; but each astonishment of mine perniciously led me towards; the hell of diabolically savage and horrendously abusive death.

When I turned 1; I felt mystically overawed at even the most ethereally meek rays of the evening Sun; although was transcending above the realms of Omnipotent heaven; to be the absolute favorite of Almighty Lord,
At 100 I still found myself mystically overawed at even the most ethereally meek rays of the evening Sun; but each exhilarated sensation of mine ominously led me towards; the graveyards of discordantly dilapidated and vindictively
crucifying death.

When I turned 1; I exploded into a mountain of uncontrollable giggles at witnessing even an insipid replica of my reflection in the scintillating mirror; although was spawning into a wave of ebulliently flirtatious timelessness,
At 100 I still found myself exploding into a mountain of uncontrollable giggles at witnessing even an insipid replica of my reflection; but each laughter of mine insatiably led me towards; the train of horrifically sardonic and lecherously pulverizing death.

When I turned 1; I inevitably stumbled on every step that I tread in my illusionary quest to reach the sky; although was diffusing a wave of unsurpassably benign
graciousness; embracing the religion of humanity wherever I went,
At 100 I still found myself stumbling at every step that I tread in my illusionary quest to reach the sky; but each step of mine intransigently led me towards; the gallows of salaciously nonchalant and parasitically gloomy death.

When I turned 1; I got overwhelmingly petrified at even the most parsimonious outrage of people around me; although was uniting more prolifically every
second with all stupendously enthralling goodness of the celestial atmosphere,
At 100 I still found myself overwhelmingly petrified at even the most parsimonious outrage of people around me; but each scream of mine immutably led me towards;
the shadows of gruesomely despicable and tyrannically traumatizing death.

When I turned 1; I inconsolably cried as sordidly blackened night approached; although was paving a path of ubiquitously unassailable and blazing righteousness
with my sacredly innocent wails,
At 100 I still found myself inconsolably crying as sordidly blackened night approached; but each cry of mine intractably led me towards; the pigstacks of
abhorrently stinking and criminally vengeful death.

When I turned 1; I groped in utterly collapsing darkness about various aspects of life even as incredulously brilliant rays of light wholesomely encapsulated the trajectory of fathomless sky;
although was the most eternally sparkling mate of angels in the heavenly cosmos,
At 100 I still found myself groping in utterly collapsing darkness about various aspects of life even as incredulously brilliant rays of the light wholesomely encapsulated the trajectory of fathomless sky; but each wavering of mine cold-bloodedly led me towards; the shattered glasses of invidiously sinister
and insanely dolorous death.


And when I turned 1; I found even the most nimbly subservient entity around me as an unfathomably towering monster; although was embarking onto the road
to triumphantly unending existence with the fires ofenchantment slowly entering into my nostrils,
At 100 I still found even the most nimbly subservient entity around me as an unfathomably towering monster; but each bewildered sensation of mine incorrigibly led me towards; the dungeons of disparagingly disconsolate and gruesomely
gory death.

Monday, March 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: nice,old age ,victory,youth
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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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