I Missed You - Part 2

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

There were no tears left in my eyes; wholesomely extricated of the last iota of moisture engulfing the impeccable whites,

There was no sweat left in my arms; horrendously withering towards the whirlpool of absolute extinction,

There were no emotions left in my blood; with its profusely scarlet shades metamorphosing into a lifeless slurry of dolorously colorless water,

There were no dreams left in my mind; preposterously relinquishing its most minuscule reservoir of memory forever,

There was no ambition left in my senses; miserably succumbing to the most infinitesimal matchstick of soggy dirt that encountered them in their way,

There was no color left in my lips; crumbling pathetically like avalanches of insipid ash; at the slightest of nonchalant caress,

There was no euphoria left in my veins; wavering like ludicrous threads in the atmosphere; into a well of deplorable renunciation,

There were no tunes left in my throat; drearily blending with the abysmally barren desert sands; sinking every tangible entity in the treachery of their belly,

There was no passion left in my footsteps; sounding more capricious than the nimble fleeted ant; entirely disappearing beyond the horizons of oblivion even before they were born,

There was no tenacity left in my bones; transiting into frigidly squelched pulp; as the first droplet of rain cascaded from the sky,

There was no mysticism left in my shadow; sprawling like a cloud of nondescript chalk; burying itself infinite kilometers beneath the soil at the most frugal insinuation of darkness,

There was no charisma left in my speech; with all the whispers diffusing from my mouth; sounding worse than the squeak of an imprisoned mouse,

There was no rhapsody left in my actions; with each shoulder I advanced towards the sky; entrenching me perpetually in an overwhelmingly hostile arcade of venomous thorns,
There was no mischief left in my cheeks; with each dimple forming; invidiously dragging me towards the sinister island of tyrannical hell,

There was no semblance left in my persona; as I insanely stuttered towards the island of miserable doom; racing like an untamed warship towards the corridors of self extinction,

There was no inspiration left in my existence; as I collapsed like a pack of ignominious cards to blend with derogatory soil; even under the most flamboyantly sweltering sunshine,

There was no breath left in my nose; perennially annihilating every sign of life from the inner most rudiments of my disastrously mocking caricature,

And there were no beats left in my heart; as it coalesced profoundly with its grave; trudging survival like a lackluster leaf without the remotest trace of vivacity,

As I missed you more than clouds miss this earth O! enchanting Beloved; and although I trespassed every unveiling minute like a ghost with contemporary flesh
and bone; my soul had united with yours O! Beloved; would immortally remain yours forever whether youslept for centuries unprecedented; or took birth as an
infant once again.

Submitted: May 01, 2018

© Copyright 2022 Nikhil Parekh. All rights reserved.

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