A Bucket Of Breath Poem by Nikhil Parekh

A bucket of stones; to built and resurrect my gruesomely broken dwelling,

A bucket of sparkling water; to clean my unwashed body; annihilate the last iota of dirt incorrigibly adhering to remote corner of my skin,

A bucket of food; to wholesomely appease the overwhelming pangs of hunger in my famished stomach; my volcanic desire to chew,

A bucket of flocculent cotton fluff; to impart me with compassionate warmth in the heart of frozen winter,

A bucket of intractable glue; to coalesce the shattered fragments of distorted glass in which I sighted my heavenly reflection,

A bucket of scintillating pearls; to sustain the vagaries of day to day and uncouthly monotonous life,

A bucket of feather tipped pens; to emboss and evolve infinite lines of spell binding literature,

A bucket of ominously black clouds; showering thunderbolts of tantalizing rain on the trajectory of this scorched planet,

A bucket of antiseptic detergent; to decimate those inconspicuous germs lingering round my immaculate persona,

A bucket of sizzling tea; to profusely reinvigorate and stimulate my every languidly dreary morning,

A bucket of appetizing brown chocolate; to stringently awaken the dormant dormitories of my brain,

A bucket of fortified sticks; granting me that impregnable prowess of defending myself against the most heinously hostile of enemy,

A bucket of dead and stupendously lifeless bones; to make me realize the value of harmoniously precious life,

A bucket of incomprehensibly enigmatic enigmas; to prolifically rekindle my dying imagination,

A bucket of flabby caps; to wholesomely sequester me from acerbic rays of the flaming Sun,

A bucket of looming watches; to accurately depict to me every unleashing minute of the day,

A bucket of crisp bonded paper; to facilitate me to compile a grandiloquent book harnessed with my very own blood,

A bucket of freshly extracted poignant ocean salt; to deluge my lackadaisical life with loads of seductive vibrancy,

A bucket of uncontrollable love; to flood my impoverished visage with the
ecstatic fire to leap;

the turbulent urge to exist amongst a pack of savage wolves on this planet,

And a bucket of breath to inundate my jacket of fragile brown lungs with freshly reinvigorating air; granting me the unprecedented tenacity to survive; granting me an indomitable urge to live my complete quota of destined years.