Nikhil Parekh

Gold Star - 6,486 Points (27/08/1977 / Dehradun, India)

Was It My Fault - Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every droplet of my euphorically mesmerizing sweat; and she on the other hand torturously evaporated every ounce of happiness from my life; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every of my celestially euphoric smiles; and she on the other hand made me unjustly cry
a countless tears of murderous hell; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every stream of my quintessentially life-bestowing blood; and she on the other hand in humanitarianly buried me under a fathomless graveyard of her meaningless deliriousness; even an
infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every triumphantly rhapsodic fantasy of mine; and she on the other hand metamorphosed every treasured moment of mine into the most diabolically asphyxiating of nightmare; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every ingredient of my untamed sensuality; and she on the other hand heartlessly castrated me of all my virility and vitality; right in the center of the boisterous street; even an infinite
years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every of my pricelessly untainted adventure; and she on the other hand devilishly incarcerated me in the prisons of her hedonistic sadism; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every of my inimitably seductive whisper; and she on the other hand yelled a boundless
volley of abuses at me for no ostensible reason or rhyme; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every element of my altruistically infallible philanthropism; and she on the other hand criminally cremated the last bone of my spine alive; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every of my royally resplendent destiny line; and she on the other hand made me sacrilegiously beg on the sordidly deplorable and orphaned streets; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every line of my perennially compassionate poetry; and she on the other hand blew me away like an obliviously fictitious speck in her spuriously lecherous cigar smoke; even an infinite
years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every poignantly enthralling sound that I heard; and she on the other hand truculently numbed each of my senses with her unrelentingly tyrannical wickedness; even an infinite years after we
got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every benevolent word that I uttered; and she on the other hand venomously snapped my tongue
into an innumerable halves as I was solely praising her; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every molecule of my peerlessly invincible strength; and she on the other hand guffawed her heart out after insouciantly excoriating my hide and feeding it to stray pigs; even an infinite
years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every timelessly reinvigorated goose-bump on my flesh; and she on the other hand maniacally dumped me under the most robotically fetid of junkyards; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every artistic fragrance that radiated from my nerves; and she on the other hand ruthlessly
trounced and kicked me through the corpses of devastating prejudice; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every ray of my truthfully emollient soul; and she on the other hand mercilessly torched every pore of my body with the disparaging hell of lies; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every vein of my pricelessly undefeated life; and she on the other hand left me to cadaverously shudder and die; even an infinite years after we got married?

Was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every of my unconquerably iridescent breath; and she on the other hand gave me the most
worthlessly despicable death at her very own hands; even an infinite years after we got married?

And was it my fault that I loved her more than I could have ever loved every beat of my passionately immortal heart; and she on the other hand smooched and mated
for times immemorial with another man right infront of my own eyes; even an infinite years after we got married?

Topic(s) of this poem: love


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 1, 2016



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