But What To Do With This Heart Poem by Nikhil Parekh

I could perhaps control my brain; diverting it to a billion other directions of mesmerizing beauty and unparalleled enchantment,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats unrelentingly bounced to an infinite kilometers beyond the horizons of emptiness in clear sky; without her magically royal shadow by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; profusely sedating it without listening to a trifle of its choice; with the most efficaciously inclement tranquilizers,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats reverberated more thunderously than the most untamed lightening and storm; without her unbelievably mellifluous voice by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; maliciously poisoning it against the most ethereal of emotion on this Universe; everytime it commenced to inexplicably cry,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats lost every trace of direction; went ludicrously haywire even in the most brilliantly explicit Sunlight; without her
magnanimously bestowing palms by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; treacherously rebuking it to such an ignominiously contemptuous threshold; that it became oblivious to its very own voice,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats drowned a zillion feet beneath the coffin of nothingness; without the rhapsodically effulgent sweetness of her existence by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; mechanically attuning it to the mundane vagaries of survival; dictating upon it that the mantra of survival of the fittest was the only mantra that it should profoundly realize,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats dimmed to a lackadaisical singleton in the entire day; without her miraculously alleviating aura by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; whiplashing it with the severest of medicinal injection; so that it couldn't conceive an iota beyond the aisles of mundane
practicality,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats withered more faster than preposterously slippery quick sand; without her innocuously righteous stare by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; splitting it apart into an unsurpassable halves; as it started to reminisce those moments when we first divinely met,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats shook hands with murderous apocalypses of hedonistic hell; without her pristinely humanitarian stride by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; metamorphosing its structure surgically; from one that remained obsessed solely with her desire; to one that nonchalantly moved
step by step with the ruthlessly robotic planet outside,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats uncompromisingly cried tears of raw blood for an infinite more lifetimes; without her fructifying dynamite of blissful energy by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; neutralizing even the most evanescent of its intricate emotionality; with the salaciously cold-blooded poison of current world commercialism and inevitable corruption,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats trembled more vociferously than the tremors of the most devastating earthquake; without her timelessly blossoming fragrance by their side.

I could perhaps control my brain; inexhaustibly subjugating it with chains of concentratedly Spartan meditation; whenever it wandered towards memories of
gloriously triumphant past,
But what to do with this heart; whose beats were rendering me an unfathomable billion torturous deaths even though I was veritably alive; without the spirit
of her immortally Omnipotent love by their side.