Cry

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

Submitted: April 01, 2018

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Submitted: April 01, 2018

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If only my tears; could forever wash away the brutal disparities of mankind; the invidious discrimination that divided the spellbindingly united human race; into salacious segments of nothingness,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the devastating loneliness from every hapless orphans face; the deplorably crucifying solitude that it faced at the hands of amorphously heartless destiny,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the preposterously crippling blackness from every blind eye; cadaverously hurtling towards the coffins of hopelessness right since the first cry of birth,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the baselessly maiming idiosyncrasies in the name of religion; which transformed life harder than the most obdurate of stone; every unfurling instant,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the feckless abhorrence from every prejudiced heart; which criminally masticated even the freshest form of existence; into meaningless bits of oblivion,

If only my tears; could forever wash away disdainfully emaciating impoverishment; those inevitably stabbing pangs of hunger which converted even the most sensible living being; into an unkempt devil,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the obnoxiously venomous smoke and dust from every blissful leaf on the city streets; the maliciously deteriorating human spit that dribbled down the tree roots,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the senseless negativities from each living brain; the inexplicably traumatizing depression that worthlessly rendered exuberant life; as a sinfully lifeless pillar,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the footprints of vindictively assassinating anarchy; the inconsolable wounds inflicted upon the nimble; by the hedonistic Lordships of malevolently corrupt power,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the livid superiority in every mans voice; the wretchedly lambasting domination that he abominably asserted on every sacred woman's womb,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the inextricably lethal scars left on mother nature's belly; by rampantly pulverizing powerhouses of robotic commercialism,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the surreptitiously blasphemous glances; which were cast on every innocuous widow's countenance; by the rapaciously thwarted society outside,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the stains of morbidly gory blood; which ignominiously flourished on the heart of mother earth; after every heartlessly
massacring war,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the inveterate arrogance of human creation; the inanely beheading aridness that even the closest of blood-relations displayed to each other; in pursuit of worldly greed and fame,

If only my tears; could forever wash away every divorce that unceremoniously occurred between a husband and wife; the non-existent suspicions that they harbored against
each other,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the disastrously impeaching emptiness in every source of existence; the unfathomable trauma of having to lead life to the fullest;
without the priceless beloved,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the shame of every naked organism on the tawdrily freezing streets; the ramifications of intolerable penuriousness that wafted from every exploited and malnourished chest,

If only my tears; could forever wash away the silence of despairingly uncouth death; the state of irrevocably lamenting helplessness that then enshrouded every ingredient of the atmosphere,

Then. O! Yes absolutely and irrefutably then. Irrespective of how cowardly the world outside termed me to be. I was prepared to forever and ever and ever cry.


© Copyright 2019 Nikhil Parekh. All rights reserved.

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