Nikhil Parekh

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

Ruling Over Every Beat Of My Heart. - Poem by Nikhil Parekh

It might be throbbing unrelentingly in pain; after witnessing the pathetically windling state of mother nature; the infinite invidious atrocities inflicted upon her belly; by salaciously robotic man,

It might be throbbing indefatigably in ecstasy; after witnessing the pristinely untamed roar of the ocean; as magical tangy froth swirled in unison; to the first cry of exuberant dawn,

It might be throbbing unabatedly in remorse; after witnessing the lifelessly decrepit skeleton of a human; brutally suspended in the center of the street; by insane powerhouses of corruption and wealth,

It might be throbbing untiringly in desire; after witnessing the sensuously vivacious woman step unclothed out of the waterfall; and into the inscrutable wilderness of the moonless night,

It might be throbbing unstoppably in contempt; after witnessing the indescribably humiliation still suffered by those infirm and deprived women; at the mercilessly marauding feet of the rich,

It might be throbbing uncontrollably in mystique; after witnessing the most diminutive of whisper rebound effortlessly from the highest apogees of the valley; before eventually culminating into an unconquerable echo,

It might be throbbing extraordinarily in vindication; after witnessing the completely idiosyncratic and barbaric discrimination meted upon even new born children; in the name of so-called spurious religion and

It might be throbbing intransigently in euphoria; after witnessing the evolution of the miraculously resplendent rainbow; from the core of absolute nothingness and unsparingly sweltering Sun in the afternoon sky,

It might be throbbing unflinchingly in belligerence; after witnessing countless innocuous trees being ruthlessly insulted and castrated; to
give way to disdainful corporate houses of emotionless concrete,

It might be throbbing fierily in excitement; after witnessing triumphantly virgin droplets of rain; unabashedly cascade and timelessly impregnate; fathomless kilometers of barren soil,

It might be throbbing uninterruptedly in grief; after witnessing the full fury of nature; as just a few milliseconds of the earthquake brought the mightiest of civilizations toppling down; formed mountain and ocean from the absolute graveyards of nowhere,

It might be throbbing unimaginably in victory; after witnessing just a single ray of truth; everlastingly towering over even the most boundless mortuaries of satanic manipulation and bawdy lies,

It might be throbbing unlimitedly in hopelessness; after witnessing the unattended cry of millions of orphaned children; which were enough
to shake the roots of any civilization; but yet miserably floundered to awaken the sanctimonious sleep of those grown up and enriched,

It might be throbbing fervently in enchantment; after witnessing the most bewildering twists; turns and trysts with destiny; the inexplicably spine-chilling adventures of the chapter called life,

It might be throbbing fearlessly in renaissance; after witnessing the oppressed being unsparingly mutilated even further; by cold-blooded politicians sinking their non-existent foundations deeper and deeper
into innocent blood,

It might be throbbing poignantly in selflessness; after witnessing that the richest and the poorest on this gigantic earth; blended in a few globules of parsimonious mud; after veritable death,

It might be throbbing undauntedly in misery; after witnessing the criminal exploitation of impeccable women; chauvinistically treating them as infinitesimal shit; in certain strata of even the 21st century,

It might be throbbing tirelessly in love; after witnessing the dream mate of its inborn choice; standing right infront of it and perennially kissing it with the sunshine of life,

It might be throbbing ardently in nostalgia; after witnessing those
same very places; those same very pinches of sacred soil; where it'd lived its entire childhood; gleefully cavorted behind the snow laden hills of time,

It might be throbbing wondrously in life; after witnessing those unending puffs of infallibly exultating breeze; that pricelessly infiltrated into the chest; every conceivable and unfurling instant of the day,

But throb as much as it might want for anybody; anything; anyplace on this spectacularly proliferating earth; if there was anyone who entirely ruled; governed and sat like an unshakable royal prince on every beat of my heart; then it was only the omnipresently blessing Almighty Creator.

Topic(s) of this poem: god, human

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 28, 2016

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