Embrace Unconquerable Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 10, 2018

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Submitted: April 10, 2018



Suicide; is a ghastily lingering spirit between resplendently sparkling heaven and diabolically ghastly hell,

Suicide; is the most desperately hedonistic crime committed against every conceivable fraternity of all mankind,

Suicide; is the most truculently unforgivable outburst of any organism; murderously imperiling the crux of symbiotically mesmerizing existence,

Suicide; is a ghoulishly amorphous abode; without the most infinitesimal trace of doors; windows and robustly functioning entities,

Suicide; is an indescribably treacherous venom; which brutally asphyxiates the impoverished ghost; even after the wholesome end of priceless life,

Suicide; is the most preposterously scurrilous corpse that incarcerated you from all sides; morbidly dampening every quintessential iota of your blood,

Suicide; is the most luridly mortifying death that an entity could ever undergo; ensuring that he indefatigably suffocated in diminutive lidfulls of water while the other world danced; everytime it was born,

Suicide; is the most ultimate curse of the devil upon every civilization; religion and tribe; afflicting the fabric of society like an uncontrollably lambasting tumor; which simply had no end,

Suicide; is perniciously sinister balderdash; the most incongruously distorted and heartlessly inclement fantasy; that the stinking pigs could ever construe,

Suicide; is a coffin of disparagingly bludgeoning solitude; a measly quavering insect being blown away into the aisles of nothingness; at even the most mercurial draught of infidel wind,

Suicide; is a salaciously jinxed witch casting her spell of unsurpassable doom; even upon the most blissfully gratifying of destinies,

Suicide; is a vindictively hollow and lecherously gawky edifice; baselessly wavering
towards the gallows of emptiness; without the most infinitesimal of foundations,

Suicide; is an inexplicably cancerous sorrow that gruesomely crucifies your soul; disdainfully maiming you on every step; for infinite more births of yours yet to unveil,
Suicide; is a flagrantly whipping extinction that had not the tiniest chance to ebulliently revive; stagnating in the prisons of torturously bleeding hell,

Suicide; is a flaccidly corpulent mosquito parasitically sucking blood every single day of its life; heartily preferring to sleep on a lavatory of derogatory shit; abrogating the most majestic of silken delights,

Suicide; is a chain of fanatically unpardonable misery; which perilously dries up every trace of mellifluously golden voice,

Suicide; is the most prurient caricature of vibrantly ecstatic life; slithering like an obnoxiously infected worm; in the junkyards of dissolutely demonic dilapidation,

Suicide; is dreadfully sinful abnegating of breath without the Lord's consent; a misdeed which even his Omnisciently magnanimous grace; could never ever condone,

Suicide is a tunnel of blindness without any end; Suicide is the most punitive betrayal of truth; desire; dream and immortal love; Suicide is an unrelentingly bloodstained night which inconsolably cries,

Therefore massacre the very thought before it transcends you to commit forlorn suicide O! Man; and instead embrace timeless sensuality; instead embrace
enchanting beauty; instead embrace unconquerable life.

© Copyright 2019 Nikhil Parekh. All rights reserved.

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