My Life Without You

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

Submitted: May 23, 2018

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Submitted: May 23, 2018

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My life without you; was like the resplendently exotic rose left disdainfully estranged; amidst an acrimonious battalion of ballistically pugnacious cactus,

My life without you; was like the brilliantly vibrant eye left penuriously staggering; amidst a venomous graveyard of invidiously sinister darkness,

My life without you; was like the astoundingly aristocratic Sun left miserably sulking; behind a treacherously penalizing coffin of shaggily disheveled and adulterated clouds,

My life without you; was like the regally bountiful pearls left inexorably fretting; in the sordidly gory interiors of the raunchily fetid gutter pipe,

My life without you; was like the exuberantly triumphant bird left hopelessly wailing; behind the diabolically victimizing and satanically gleaming prison bars,

My life without you; was like the pinnacle of the unassailable mountain left dreadfully defeated; under a frigidly threadbare avalanche of feckless ice,

My life without you; was like the patriotically blazing warrior left relentlessly cursing his luck; amidst the manipulatively parasitic politicians,

My life without you; was like the euphorically victorious ocean left to  lugubriously slaver; amidst the dastardly cockroaches of the diminutively soiled lavatory seat,

My life without you; was like the fantastically eclectic artist left to unstoppably asphyxiate; obnoxiously imprisoned within the walls of the monotonously matchbox shaped and wastrel office,

My life without you; was like the newly embellished bride left hysterically sobbing; amidst insurmountably punitive layers of  cadaverously widowed white,

My life without you; was like the blissfully wedded couple left to enjoy their iridescent honeymoon; amidst the rambunctiously dusty and discordantly begging streets,

My life without you; was like the intrepidly young man left to miserably deteriorate; amidst heavy numbered glasses; forlorn crutches and a bedraggled walking stick,

My life without you; was like timelessly ticking clock left to vindictively weep;  amidst the infinitesimally worthless dwelling of the invisible ghosts,

My life without you; was like the exquisitely redolent and feather tipped pen left to become delirious; amidst the mordantly corrugated periphery of the jaggedly cold-hearted rocks,

My life without you; was like the unflinchingly handsome panther left to disparagingly growl; amidst lackluster blades of nimbly vegetarian and teasingly evanescent grass,

My life without you; was like the unfathomably mellifluous nightingale left to bang its beak; amidst the brutally stuttering horde of the hedonistically stone deaf,

My life without you; was like irrefutably scintillating truth and humanity left to march; in the land of the ignominiously scurrilous and baselessly devilish hell,

My life without you; was like rhapsodically insatiable breath left to perniciously wither; under the hood of the dolorously damned and strangulating coffin of extinction,

And my life without you O! Eternal beloved; was like the passionately immortal heart heartlessly left;  amidst the sadistically unsavory scorpions of severely jinxed betrayal.


© Copyright 2018 Nikhil Parekh. All rights reserved.

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