Even If I Had To Die Every Moment Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Even if I had to cry tears of savage blood; with hysterical agony pouring turbulently from my cheeks,

Even if I had to chew biscuits of obdurate steel; ripping my teeth apart into infinite pieces,

Even if I had to trespass on a blanket of acrimonious thorns; with the uncouth needles piercing brutally through my supple feet,

Even if I had to speak indefatigably without the slightest of rest; harbor an armory of satanic blisters on my rubicund tongue,

Even if I had to hear the most abashing of abuse; had to tolerate the most tumultuously screeching sound,

Even if I had to perceive the most horrendously ghastliest of dreams; wail inexorably all throughout the night in the agony of my ghoulish conceptions,

Even if I had to pound my fists against the Herculean mountain; disintegrating my tender bones into fathomless small bits,

Even if I had to count all the stars in the cosmos every night; with the slightest error of mine leading to ruthless crucification of my blissful entity,

Even if I had to run for millions of kilometers on the trot; with the pugnacious rays of Sun and the frigidness in my bones stopping me relentlessly at every step,

Even if I had to remain starved for decades unprecedented; with the pangs of insatiable hunger in my stomach augmenting like a volcano every unleashing
second,

Even if I had to sleep every night in the Lion's den; with a pack of hostile wolves encircling me the instant I closed my eyes,

Even if I had to clamber up the snow clad cliffs barefoot; with the last bone in my body rattling uncontrollably towards certain death,

Even if I had to write till unsurpassable eternity; with the last ounce of enthusiasm and tenacity wholesomely evacuating from my bones,

Even if I had to stare inexorably in flaming wisps of inclement fire; with the moisture in my intricate eye disastrously evaporating into remote oblivion,
Even if I had to be whipped tirelessly by swords coated with lethal scorpion; with each pore of my skin whimpering in meek submission,

Even if I had to drink snake venom every dawn instead of impeccable milk; diabolically torture the mass of delicate intestines and food trapped in my stomach,

Even if I had to traverse naked on the boisterous streets; becoming the object of unimaginable ridicule in every section of the pretentious society,

And even if I had to die a gory death every moment; and still lead life in accordance with the laws of existence,

I wouldn't mind it all O! Lord; as long as I achieved the goal I was striving for; and my insurmountable urge to become the invincible King of poetry; was wholesomely satisfied.