Category Archives: poetry

Not the deadliest sting of the venomously dancing scorpion; perpetually waiting to crawl on naked skin and pierce its hindside deep down into streams of innocuous scarlet blood,

Not even the menacingly insatiable army of ants; ardently dreaming of nothing else but triggering a volcano of unbearable redness; as they stealthily clambered upon the most invisible patches of skin,

Not even the most savagely gleaming knives; who yearned to sadistically chop anything and everything in vicinity; into a trillion pieces of livid meaninglessness,

Not even the most despairingly morose dungeons; who wanted to devour every conceivable source of life in the blooming atmosphere; forever into a graveyard of demonic blackness,

Not even the most ominously parasitic leeches; who started to hideously slither as if starved since a thousand centuries; at sighting the most orphaned droplet of blood splattered on the grave,

Not even the most invidiously smoldering embers of the bonfire; whose sole mission in life was to burn every trespassing soul to an unrecognizable death; a most perfect vindication for their dreadfully miserly state of now,

Not even the most incapacitated of oblivious rusty iron nails; who knew they could cause many an inexplicably traumatizing disease; apart from a corpse of woeful blood; once they pugnaciously stung,

Not even the most perilously sinister sheets of sinking mud; who wretchedly suckled you to the rock bottom of incarcerated darkness; with an ease as inanimate as a ghost passing unscathed through the wall,

Not even the most forlornly thwarting silence; a web of preposterously crucifying loneliness trying its best to trap every life of bustling energy; only to be eaten by the spiders of hell,

Not even the gullibly hissing snakes; whose singleton kiss of the lips on pristine life; led to the most irrevocably silencing mortuaries of death; an agonizing extinction which brutally paralyzed all existence,

Not even the most tyrannical wells of unending sarcasm; which plagued every creatively brilliant spark that rose from the mind and soul; with the devil’s altar of jinxed negativity,

Not even the most disdainfully lethal smokescreens of adulteration; which yearned every unveiling instant to usurp everyone on earth; in their murderously cancerous swirl,

Not even the most abysmal gorge of hopeless desperation; which perpetuated every sane entity on the trajectory of the planet; to become a maniac who asymmetrically plundered for raw flesh and blood,

Not even the most dreadfully conniving satans of hell; who devised endless insidious ways and means to torture you after you died; and were sent to their custody in your fecklessly frigid after life,

Not even the most despondently amorphous walls of monotony; which unsparingly marauded every infinitesimal ounce of newness around with carcasses of penalizing routine,

Not even the most heartless cauldrons with meat butchered into a zillion pieces; where the most priceless of emotions were hacked to the most indescribably torturous death; shockingly alive,

Not even the most ominously wailing streams of blistering lava; launching an assault of an unimaginably distorted and instant death; as it fervently prayed for the very first living step to transgress its way,

Not even most ghoulishly jangling skeletons of nothingness; whose sole purpose lay in scaring the daylights of optimism from the innermost realms of your soul; make you one of their own even in the pinnacle of your robust life,

But if there was anything that could indeed bite a Man till beyond an infinite of his lives and deaths-Then it was only the infidelity of the woman whom he’d given his heart; the woman whom he truly loved.

There were some who hated office; for being murderously monotonous; invidiously trespassing against their blissful lives and compassionately adorable families,

There were some who hated war; for being diabolically destructive; evolving civilizations of newness; at the cost of countless rivers of innocent blood,

There were some who hated the day; for being acrimoniously blistering; savagely crippling the flow of uninhibitedly untamed fantasy; in their surreally exotic minds,

There were some who hated the cuckoo; for devilishly disturbing their celestial morning sleep; ruthlessly jarring them from their ingratiatingly nocturnal slumber
and rhapsodic bedcover delights,

There were some who hated the buildings; for satanically obstructing their panoramically pristine view; for lecherously asphyxiating them of veritably glorious air and exhilarating exuberance,

There were some who hated the dungeons; for disastrously camouflaging their blissfully innocuous persona; with violent whirlpools of ghastly blackness,

There were some who hated the rain; for vindictively playing spoil sport in their pragmatically routine activities; impeding their electric pace; to triumphantly surge forward in vibrant life,

There were some who hated the gutters; for obnoxiously infiltrating the tranquil serenity of their dwellings; with horrendously preposterous scent,

There were some who hated the mountains; for perilously hovering in the way of their handsomely majestic flight; engendering them to crash like insipid mincemeat; against the treacherously demonic slopes,

There were some who hated the clock; for indefatigably tick tocking all night and brilliant day; not letting them rest even an inconspicuous trifle; to wholesomely
shrug the astronomical perseverance of the previous day,

There were some who hated the ice; for indiscriminately numbing the poignantly scarlet blood in their veins; abominably jeopardizing their progress towards
an impregnably scintillating victory,

There were some who hated the jungles; for worthlessly marauding upon precious space; constricting the blissful development of the contemporary civilization;
with its uncouthly rampant maze of creepers and beasts,
There were some who hated the graveyards; for perpetuating their ambience with ghoulishly cursed doom; when an organism could be very well be burnt as well; after abdicating its last iota of breath,

There were some who hated destiny; for the inexplicable twists and agonizingly painstaking turns; which treacherously inhibited them in their blazingly steady
course of dazzling life,

There were some who hated children; for their rambunctiously unruly behavior; ominously corrupting the spurious somberity; of their aristocratically rich
cigar smoke; vixen and opulent wine,

There were some who hated truth; for explicitly landing them in an unfathomable ocean of trouble; when they could have easily saved their ungainly trembling
skins; under the blanket of derogatory lies,

There were some who hated the night; for enveloping them with disdainfully sultry blackness; more importantly forcing them to close commercial shop; and thereby horrifically restrict the flow of gold coin and silver,

There were some who hated love; for intrepidly trespassing against the fabric of conventionally tyrannical humanity; pulverizing their spurious corpse of rules and regulations to non-existent skeleton chowder,

There were some who even hated breath; for sporadically intervening them in their so called brilliantly innovative thought process; cursing their robotically conventional bodies with eternal rest,

And if there was anybody who hated the word hate with irrefutable hatred; then it was none other than Almighty Lord himself; for we humans were mere mortals
portraying even the tiniest of our disgust to the most appalling limits; while his Omnipotent fingers were miraculously the ones; which metamorphosed all
hatred forever into the sky of immortal love.

If gigantic silhouette of the peepal tree was rotated upside down,
Countless fibers of moistened roots would shiver in the wind,
Leafy branches of lush green foliage would be buried deep beneath the ground,
With a host of animals living in proximity with the earth.

If the dexterously sculptured flower vase was kept upside down,
Soiled extracts of plant water would leak out in ecstatic frenzy.

If conical tapered blocks of the mountain were inverted upside down,
The slender nose tip would refrain to bear the onerous load of the Herculean hillock,
And the formidable structure would collapse like a soft pack of playing cards.

If the glass facaded bungalow was revolved upside down; heaps of furniture would tumble down with a sigh; water oozing from infinite cavities of the shower would try and kiss the sky.

If princely cars traverse through rough carpets of road upside down; occupants would solely relinquish ideas of inhabiting them,
Chrome topped assembly of roof would screech in high pitched tunes of discordance.

If the colossal brick structure of the clock tower was placed upside down,
There would be inevitable confusions of time,
With people having to perspire all night and sleep with a perpetual bliss all sunlit day.

If humans trespassed upside down on the surface of obdurate ground,
They would be I intimate contacts with slithering snake and ant,
Growing bald every minute with glistening scalps,
With their legs oblivious to the art of walking,
Baking like unconsummated cakes in harsh rays of the Sun.

If the broken wall ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about the disdainfully inferior quality of cement used in its construction; that had
fomented it to crumble appallingly towards soil,

If the mercilessly chopped down tree ever had a tongue; then the first thing it uttered; would be about the barbaric humans; who ruthlessly cut it down to illuminate their every superficial night,

If the hazy river waters ever had a tongue; the first thing they uttered; would be about the tyrannically obnoxious industries; which polluted their heavenly persona profusely every unleashing second,

If the orphaned tooth ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about diabolical monsters who had so uncouthly ripped it apart from the cozy realms of its masters mouth,

If the sands of the tumultuously blistering desert ever had a tongue; the first thing they uttered; would be about the horrendous life they were bestowed upon with; without the most minuscule droplet of sparkling water,

If the shattered petal ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about the cowardly satanic way in which the flower shed it; when confronted with the
tiniest wind of storm,

If the pathetically deflated balloon ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about its royally oligarchic times in the sky; the acrimonious bullet which pierced it through its protuberant belly; rendering it sadly into the corpse which it currently
was,

If the overwhelmingly bashed egg ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about the ominously wretched snake which stole it surreptitiously when its mother was fast asleep; splitting apart its nimble body into infinite halves,

If the rusty piece of jewelry ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about its hideously vain mistress; who hurled it to rot in the sinister dungeons; meting out her insurmountable frustration on its impeccable demeanor,

If the disheveled rags of cloth ever had a tongue; the first thing they uttered; would be about the treacherous rioters who grappled them devilishly; disorienting them from their handsomely stoical posture,
If the brutally trampled whisker ever had a tongue; then the first thing it uttered; would be about its majestic times while embedded to the lion’s snout; the nonchalant way in which it had fallen on the ground; when the beast was thunderously snoring,

If the bone lying morbidly in the interiors of the obsolete castle ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about the robust body of the prince it once upon a time inhabited; the gory moment when its master breathed his very last; to leave it
decaying even centuries after his death,

If the disastrously melting mountains of ice-cream ever had a tongue; the first thing they uttered; would be about the acerbically dictatorial rays of the Sun which had compelled them to completely loose their identity,

If the dismally corroded mouse-trap ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about how much it abhorred imprisoning filthily stinking mice; how much
it desired to be placed in flamboyantly dazzling sunshine,

If the sleazily colored bundles of cotton ever had a tongue; the first thing they uttered; would be about the unfathomably commercial farmer; plucking them
indiscriminately from their immaculate buds; selling them at a price when infact they were priceless,

If the blanket of grass blades ever had a tongue; the first thing they uttered; would be about the demons transgressing indefatigably on their voluptuous carpet; pulverizing their silken softness with indigenous feet,

If the splattered splinters of glass lying forlorn on the floor ever had a tongue; the first thing they uttered; would be about the pertinently irascible hordes of children; who had made them taste dust; with their obdurate cricket balls,

If the solitarily wandering soul ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about the inexplicable agony it was besieged with; the utter helplessness that it was thoroughly engulfed with; when it simply couldn’t help its loved ones in distress,

And if the broken heart ever had a tongue; the first thing it uttered; would be about how much it craved to be loved; how much it craved for that immortal love in
its life once again; which it unfortunately couldn’t get.

If the eyes danced out of their sockets for times immemorial; morbidly bouncing in the untamed wilderness; with a ominous juggernaut of pugnacious snakes,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but frantically groping in a whirlpool of meaninglessly threatening; and sinister darkness.

If the teeth danced out of their sockets for decades unfathomable; insipidly blending with pathetically lambasted chunks of flattened soil,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but starving to an unprecedentedly murderous extinction every instant; remorsefully missing
tantalizing morsels of nature’s priceless fruit.

If the fingers danced out of their sockets for centuries unsurpassable; resting in disdainful contentment; within the interiors of the horrifically abominable pigs stomach,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but ludicrously slaving on brutally tyrannized ground; without the tiniest of ability to defend itself.

If the hair danced out of their sockets for times unfathomable; taking perfidious pride in becoming the witch’s morning breakfast; as well as supper for the perilously invidious night,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but ridiculously castigated and ignominiously looked down upon; as a battalion of white mice feasted on
the; scintillatingly barren scalp.

If the blood danced out of its sockets for countless years; satanically hosting an insurmountable fleet of lecherous parasites,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but only as a infinitesimally diminutive skeleton; tottering towards the brink of extinction; even in the heart of vivaciously vibrant life.

If the legs danced out of their sockets for unimaginable moments; to melt like frigidly
opprobrious pulp; even as the most minuscule beam of sunshine; filtered its way through the crimson clouds,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without any ambition to wholesomely succeed; disastrously staggering to juxtapose with
deplorable despair; even before it could alight a nimble foot.

If the brain danced out of its sockets for fathomless fortnights; to be consumed timidly by grazing goats and sporadically loitering tiny worms,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without even an inconspicuous iota of fantasy and desire; witnessing each little part of its being insidiously massacred; in hopelessly dumb submission.
If the conscience danced out of its sockets for infinite millennium’s; to reside with the savage scorpions; as they diabolically feasted upon its irrefutably righteous visage,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without the most remotest element of truth; miserably succumbing to the web of disgustingly
capricious lies.

Paradoxically to all of the above; if the Heart danced out of its sockets for infinite more births to unveil; philandering indefatigably behind the handsome hills; as the golden Sun kissed the evanescent horizons,
Then the impoverished body would not only continue to exist; but would immortally continue to exist and evolve; into an invincibly romantic cloud of everlasting love; love; and only passionate love.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; the minutest trace of poverty would be annihilated from earth,
The indigent beggars on the street would catapult in sheer ecstasy; stashing as much of coin as they ever dreamt of; in their ragamuffin bags.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; marriages round the globe would occur in chambers of impeccable silk,
With the bride extravagantly embellished in silken cloth; and the bridegroom completely bereft of the onerous tension to earn.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; the commoner would traverse on glistening roads of molded yellow,
The thieves would forget to pilfer; and the Mafia would forget to maraud; as they were now blessed with opulence right from the colossal sky.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; man would incorporate his house with gigantic slabs of the same,
Articulately sculpturing his plates of the gold; ravenously consuming his food from it; profoundly lost in the scintillating glitter.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; people would be saved from the tyranny of monotonous work,
Transit from realms of despondency to one replete with ebullience; easily perishing the desire to perspire and slog.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; clusters of birds would utilize gold in place of threadbare twigs to construct their nests,
The armory of their eggs would hatch in an ambience of ostentatious gold; blended with profuse opulence.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; abhorrent termites would tenaciously gnaw in their deadly pincers,
They would be treated to a ravishing meal of currency coin for a change; were absolutely delighted; after being used to painstakingly nibbling decayed wood.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; severely afflicted patients would leave their disdainful hospital beds,
Run out rampantly on the streets refraining to rue their pain; spreading out their febrile palms to clasp the gold.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; the fighter pilots flying at unprecedented heights in the sky would forget to fire a fleet of hostile grenade,
They would be too busy to concentrate on the pugnacious war; open the door of the cockpit to get hold of the gold.

If the clouds showered gold instead of rain; every individual would feel overwhelmingly blessed initially; with the rigmarole and turmoil to work completely diminishing,
However the plants sprouting from soil would die a gruesome death; the animal kingdom would fatally relinquish breath;

And the most treasured species of man would disastrously succumb without crystal water; which was now replaced by gold in all forms and traces,
Therefore it is my humble plea to you O! Divine creator; to shower upon the earth bountiful rain; wherein lies impregnated abundantly; the true spirit and the true gold.

If drowning in the fathomlessly treacherous ocean seems inevitable; why not
start to stupendously relish the unbelievably tangy spray of the sea on
every pore of your nakedly impoverished skin,

If falling from the absolute epitome of Everest seems inevitable; why not start to passionately embrace every draught of exuberant air; as you unstoppably plummeted like thunderbolts of lightening towards heartless ground,

If being bitten by the diabolically ominous serpent seems inevitable; why not start to unfathomably admire its majestically unconquerable hood; as it uncontrollably quivered under the pristinely impeccable light of the midnight moon,

If being victimized by acrimoniously slandering isolation seems inevitable;
why not start to unceasingly kiss the tranquil silence with the periphery of your rubicund lips; even as there wasn’t a trace of civilization till countless centuries apart,

If being excoriated into nothingness whilst trapped in a lion’s cage seems inevitable; why not start to tirelessly feast your eyes upon the unflinching patriotism; that wafted from every ingredient of your blood that now almost overwhelmed the fabric of the Universe,

If being slit open by a demonically gleaming knife seems inevitable; why not
start to mesmerize every cranny of the whites of your eye; with its magical
gleam even at the cruelest hour of the ribald night,

If satanically crucifying starvation seems inevitable; why not start to fondle and massage each of your pathetically tyrannized bone; to the most ultimate epitomes of ecstasy and satisfaction,

If cadaverously penalizing blindness seems inevitable; why not start to envisage the entire world as a paradise of uninhibited nakedness; eternally dancing in the winds of sensuously untamed blackness,

If horrendously subjugating deafness seems inevitable; why not start to treat your ears only to the most opulently luxurious and vivaciously tinkling earrings,

If heinously traumatizing poverty seems inevitable; why not start to fantasize about perpetually floating in the clouds; away from every earthly pleasure; and without a cloth to engulf your ebullient form,

If the despairingly deteriorated gallows of jail seem inevitable; why not
start to wholesomely blindfold your effulgent eyes; and cognize a life after
this currently destitute lifetime of yours,

If being buried under the gorily invidious avalanche seems inevitable; why
not start to ardently play and blend with the royally untainted iceflakes; being insurmountably tantalized by their velvety caress; just like a newly born child,

If being salaciously torn apart from your beloved seems inevitable; why not
start to fervently appreciate the inexhaustible tenacity with which your heart still throbbed; for the destined remainder of your life,

If being lost in the inexplicably gigantic labyrinth of tunnels seems inevitable; why not start to be enchanted and till the very last breath of your life; by the
astoundingly pitch-dark stillness,

If being pugnaciously aborted right in the womb of your mother seems inevitable; why not start to think that this was the greatest blessing that your mother could ever dream of bestowing upon you; even before you were born,

If walking through an endless field of acridly abstruse thorns seems inevitable; why not start to feel perennially blessed; as the blood profusely oozing from your feet; unassailably enriched every ounce of spell-bindingly naked soil,

If being crushed under the unstoppably speeding car seems inevitable; why
not start to feel that you’re soon going to undergo; an unchallengeable world record for bearing maximum pain,

If the unforgivable hands of death seem inevitable; why not start to unbelievably relish your expedition to either Heaven/Hell; feel like a quintessential ingredient of the boundaries of the uncannily unknown,

And if treacherously besmirching rape seems inevitable; why not start to
unprecedenteldy enjoy every conceivable contact of skin with ignited skin;
why not undyingly enjoy the ultimate dewdrops of virility; now sinfully but
eventually amalgamating two bodies as one.

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of your hours; which you dedicated wholesomely to our child; at times deliberately stirring the mischievous devil within it,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of your hours; which you meaninglessly wasted staring into blank bits of space; which led solely to the mortuaries of nothingness,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you obsessively spent ruthlessly scraping and scrubbing those floors; which were already sparkling clean,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you worthlessly whiled reading every ounce of spicy and gossipy news; inundated on the front covers of sensational newspapers and magazines alike,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent ardently listening to the travails and woes; of even the most listlessly decayed bones strewn haplessly on the dusty streets,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent indefatigably searching for the ultimate panacea of happiness and fruition; in your impoverished life,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you dedicated to excessively celestial rest and sleep; which you relished the most; because you could rampantly dream,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent in the kitchen burning your fingers unsuccessfully; in trying to learn every conceivable recipe under the flaming Sun,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of thousands of hours; which you fervently devoted to satisfying every religious ritual and spurious ceremony; of the so-called sanctimonious society,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent scrupulously tracking every thread of success; of the richest men and women on this fathomless Universe,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent conversing; releasing your frustration; against the solitary walls and laconic bits of sky,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent in triumphantly proving even the most invisible of your point; even though you were the unabashed ridiculer and were wrong,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent admiring your very ownself; as sitting on the throne of; and reigning as the ultimate queen of nail-on-the-head practicality,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent aimlessly speaking with your friends; relatives and close kin; igniting myriad topics out of sheer nothingness; when there was nothing profound left to talk,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent trying to explore an indefinite number of talents; existing incognito in your brain,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent taking marathon walks and jogs; in order to keep your already agile body; roaring in the topmost gear,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent in gross indifference and preposterous shrewdness; towards the chapters of mundane life,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours; which you spent in making fun of even the most evanescent of my idiosyncrasies; upon which you’d accidentally tumbled; in knowing me all these long years,

If only you’d spent only a single minute reading my poetry; out of those thousands of hours you spent wholeheartedly laughing on the other side; whilst I flashed the mightiest tears of my sorrow away; cursed by a spell of perennial loneliness,

Then. I’d have loved you more invincibly than I loved anyone on this gigantically inscrutable Universe; as poetry was all I had; all I was made up of in each of my veins; bone and breath; and what I penned was exactly what I thought; was exactly how I was; was exactly my truest identity; irrespective of any caste; creed; status or tribe.

if i were God,
i would put sea in land,
gold liquid in blood veins,
send rain with currency notes attached to droplets,
transform all humans to aquatic fish,
having a mermaid like disposition,
living in all equality with bundles of salt,
rebuke the sparse few, left on land,
for their plethora of misdeeds,
charging them with the highest treason,
sweeping them away like piece of dirt,
with cheap broomsticks of twined bamboo.
then there would be,
no poverty, indiscreet trampling of deprived,
no panic stricken, aggrieved, mutilated,
no innocent assaulted,
by powerhouses of wealth and illegitimate pride,
no shivering in chilly winters,
no dying of sun strokes,
no scope for inflicted brutalism,
no supply of hazardous narcotic,
absolute prohibition of life ending liquor,
manufactured in dilapidated breweries,
complete harmony amongst all tribes in flesh,
beheading sinful chapters of mutual racism,
dulling the nerves of rampant blood shed,
elimination of traumatized anecdotes,
of premature death,
through vehicular clashes,
air, water and rail collisions,
no mammoth crowds flocking for,
oil, petrol, gas, essential fodder for survival,
no palaces for some,
and unbaked cow dung plaster huts for others,
uprooting all kinds of glamour,
reinforcing it with simplistic existence,
no indecent portrayal of stalwarts,
sacrificing personal lives, releasing us from jaws of captivity,
no inflation, unauthorized storage of food grain,
no urchins left like garbage,
in clammy interiors of unkempt orphanages,
i would evaporate every trace of crime,
with complete equality nestling in all quarters,
all this and a host to follow,
as i wish and pray fervently,
if only i were God.

I hadn’t the most infinitesimal of desire to conquer the planet with the power of sacrilegious wealth; but if only I could win every symbiotically throbbing heart on this fathomless Universe with the balm of immortal love; then I’d consider each element of my signature to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most ephemeral of desire to conquer the planet with the power of satanic wealth; but if only I could win every blissfully throbbing heart on this boundless Universe with the rainbow of immortal love; then I’d consider each of my footsteps; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most infidel of desire to conquer the planet with the power of diabolical wealth; but if only I could win every celestially throbbing heart on this gigantic Universe with the sky of immortal love; then I’d consider each word that I uttered; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most evanescent of desire to conquer the planet with the power of treacherous wealth; but if only I could win every bountifully throbbing heart on
this colossal Universe with the meadow of immortal love; then I’d consider each blooddrop of mine; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most fugitive of desire to conquer the planet with the power of incarcerating wealth; but if only I could win every effulgently throbbing heart on
this interminable Universe with the tree of immortal love; then I’d consider each smile that I diffused; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most insouciant of desire to conquer the planet with the power of marauding wealth; but if only I could win every harmoniously throbbing heart on this
endless Universe with the rainshowers of immortal love; then I’d consider each globule of my sweat; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most obsolete of desire to conquer the planet with the power of indiscriminate wealth; but if only I could win every jubilantly throbbing heart on
this unceasing Universe with the seeds of immortal love; then I’d consider each reflection of mine; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most disappearing of desire to conquer the planet with the power of cold-blooded wealth; but if only I could win every beautifully throbbing heart
on this limitless Universe with the lanterns of immortal love; then I’d consider each voluntary and involuntary reflex of mine; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most absconding of desire to conquer the planet with the power of wanton wealth; but if only I could win every humanitarianly throbbing heart on this
unbelievable Universe with the flames of immortal love; then I’d consider each fantasy of mine; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most receding of desire to conquer the planet with the power of tawdry wealth; but if only I could win every victoriously throbbing heart on this unbridled Universe with the bonds of immortal love; then I’d consider each nimble bone of my mine; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most dormant of desire to conquer the planet with the power of non-existent wealth; but if only I could win every passionately throbbing heart on
this unfettered Universe with the winds of immortal love; then I’d consider each pathway that I traversed; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most decrepit of desire to conquer the planet with the power of vindictive wealth; but if only I could win every poignantly throbbing heart on
this synergistic Universe with the sea of immortal love; then I’d consider each sound that I heard; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most remotest of desire to conquer the planet with the power of devilish wealth; but if only I could win every wonderfully throbbing heart on this fathomless Universe with the atmosphere of immortal love; then I’d consider each patch of flesh; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most obfuscated of desire to conquer the planet with the power of remorseful wealth; but if only I could win every fantastically throbbing heart
on this effervescent Universe with the mist of immortal love; then I’d consider each mission of mine; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most evaporating of desire to conquer the planet with the power of wretched wealth; but if only I could win every benevolently throbbing heart on this
undefeated Universe with the wand of immortal love; then I’d consider each line of my destiny; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most mercurial of desire to conquer the planet with the power of sinful wealth; but if only I could win every compassionately amiable heart on this
unassailable Universe with the syrup of immortal love; then I’d consider each pore of my skin; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most crumbling of desire to conquer the planet with the power of sadistic wealth; but if only I could win every bounteously untainted heart on this
mesmerizing Universe with the epitomes of immortal love; then I’d consider each dormitory of my soul; to be perpetually blessed.

I hadn’t the most extinguishing of desire to conquer the planet with the power of murderous wealth; but if only I could win every fantastically unhindered heart
on this astounding Universe with the apogees of Immortal love; then I’d consider each of my breath; to be perpetually blessed.

And I hadn’t the most teeniest of desire to conquer the planet with the power of bawdy wealth; but if only I could win every spell-bindingly liberated heart on
this panoramic Universe with the paradise of immortal love; then I’d consider each beat of my impoverished chest; to be perpetually blessed.