Unprepared Poem by Nikhil Parekh

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of ecstatic scents; as well as the worst of the worst morbidly fetid stinks,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of unsurpassably optimistic illumination; as well as the worst of the worst dolorously asphyxiating darkness,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of triumphant melodies; as well as the worst of the worst torturously ghastly voices of the ghost,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of unflinchingly sparkling victories; as well as the worst of the worst scurrilously ignominious defeats,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of intriguingly exhilarating newness; as well as the worst of the worst bawdily desolate silence of the treacherous coffins,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of ubiquitously synergistic wisdom; as well as the worst of the worst myths of cadaverously pulverizing illiteracy,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of blazingly insuperable heroics; as well as the worst of the worst gallows of abysmally deteriorating
dumbness,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of magically volatile sensuousness; as well as the worst of the worst amorphously listless matchboxes of
tyrannical monotony,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of uninhibitedly priceless freedom; as well as the worst of the worst of apocalypses of unsparingly lambasting hell,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of opulently majestic rainfall; as well as the worst of the worst of bizarrely strangulating mortuaries of drought,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of compassionately symbiotic camaraderie; as well as the worst of the worst of venomously diabolical parasites of malicious chicanery,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of indomitably towering courage; as well as the worst of the worst of salaciously flagrant dastardliness,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of wholeheartedly unconquerable smiles; as well as the worst of the worst of fretfully tearful and penalizing disasters,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of timelessly endowing royalty; as well as the worst of the worst sordidly begging bowls of haplessly inevitable desperation,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of altruistically benign philanthropism; as well as the worst of worst of parsimoniously lethal
and indescribably penurious crime,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of spellbindingly Omnipresent virility; as well as the worst of worst of slaps that tirelessly reverberated the curse of being infertile,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of Immortally unassailable love; as well as the worst of the worst of cannibalistically vituperative betrayal,

He's perpetually prepared you for the best of the best of regally emollient life; as well as the worst of the worst of hedonistically massacring and unavoidable death,

But if there was one thing that the Lord didn't prepare you for; or never ever wanted you to prepare yourself: That was to nonchalantly accept the corpse of savagely crippling death; within the heart of his effulgently panoramic creation; within the invincible entrenchment of his endlessly procreating atmosphere; within the melody of unshakable oneness that enshrouded every of his organism and particle of earth
alike; within every unbelievably jubilant moment of your blessedly proliferating and destined life