Treasure Island

Nikhil Parekh

(27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

he was every person's Creator


FOR EVERY BIRD gruesomely killed; he had the power to create infinite more fledglings,
For every river dried miserably to a trickle; he had the power to create infinite oceans,
For every tree brutally chopped to the ground; he had the power to create infinite forests,
For every eye inadvertently blinded; he had the power to create infinite with sight,
For every satanic night taking a complete stranglehold on light; he had the power to create infinite brilliant days,
For every tongue which was disdainfully dumb; he had the power to create infinite mouths which could speak and shout,
For every iota of currency furtively stolen; he had the power to create infinite banks looming high and handsome till the heavens,
For every couple who was childless and rendered cruelly unable to procreate; he had the power to create infinite more households bustling with a battalion of toddlers,
For every brain that was wholesomely exhausted; he had the power to create infinite intelligent minds,
For every child disastrously orphaned on the streets; he had the power to create infinite families complete in all respects,
For every blade of grass mercilessly trampled; he had the power to create infinite meadows of lush green crop,
For every skeleton lying disdainfully buried under the coffin; he had the power to create infinite bodies; dancing about in robust health and thunderous fervor,
For every scalp that was balder than the egg; he had the power to create infinite strands of shimmering hair,
For every life lost unwittingly during the tumultuous earthquake; he had the power to create infinite more souls as Kings,
For every slave bound wretchedly to gleaming chains; he had the power to create infinite crusaders to break open the shackles,
For every throat that was dangerously thirsty; he had the power to create infinite mouths slavering with excess water,
For every watch that had abruptly relinquished to function; he had the power to create infinite clocks ticking at electric speeds,
For every Albino engulfed entirely with a coat of appalling pink skin; he had the power to create infinite beauties with the most charismatic of flesh,
For every house that had been diabolically pulverized to raw dust during war; he had the power to create infinite palaces; blended profusely with glittering gold and silver,
For every demon wandering at will on this earth; he had the power to create infinite angels to valiantly defend the world,
For every heart pathetically broken; he had the power to create and bind infinite having just taken birth,
His power to create was simply unprecedented; his process of evolution was simply boundless and beyond the most unimaginable degree of comprehension; and that is why he was not only mine; but every person's almighty creator. 

Submitted: Thursday, August 14, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Topic(s): poetry

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (he was every person's Creator by Nikhil Parekh )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. A truth that few would know, Michael Mullings
  2. Lover of Fire, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
  3. Burning Heart, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
  4. Peddlers of Dream, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
  5. Orembiere, Missau Missau
  6. Lustful Fire, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
  7. N.Y.S.C. Orientation camp Nkwere, Missau Missau
  8. To Touch Dream, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
  9. The sky viewer, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
  10. The Love without Tongue, Zillur Rahman Shuvro

Poem of the Day

poet William Wordsworth

I

I AM not One who much or oft delight
To season my fireside with personal talk.--
Of friends, who live within an easy walk,
Or neighbours, daily, weekly, in my sight:
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]