Except The Divine Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Except The Divine



It was perhaps my despairing misfortune; that I couldn't embellish even the most infinitesimal iota of your body with a fountain of unfathomably extravagant silk,

It was perhaps my criminal misfortune; that I couldn't assimilate all titillating delicacies of this fathomless planet; into your outstretched palette,

It was perhaps my penalizing misfortune; that I couldn't tirelessly inundate even the most diminutive space round your majestic countenance; with the unsurpassable treasury of wealth on this gigantic planet,

It was perhaps my debilitating misfortune; that I couldn't deluge every step that you royally transgressed; with an insurmountable festoon of gloriously scintillating cars,

It was perhaps my lambasting misfortune; that I couldn't fly you on my shoulders to kiss the profound Moon; snatch every star from the sky to perpetually become the grace of your sacred lap,

It was perhaps my treacherous misfortune; that I couldn't adorn your fantastically nubile skin; with all incomprehensible glitter and diamonds; bountifully studded on the periphery of this mesmerizing Universe,

It was perhaps my salacious misfortune; that I couldn't gift you the most opulently golden mirror every morning; for you to sensuously appreciate every iota of your ravishing countenance; till times beyond infinite infinity,

It was perhaps my ominous misfortune; that I couldn't embed each step that you aristocratically transgressed; with a boundless entrenchment of spell binding gold,

It was perhaps my invidious misfortune; that I couldn't engulf your heavenly sleeping body; with unending blankets of ingratiatingly resplendent pearls,

It was perhaps my slithering misfortune; that I couldn't caress even the most fleeting speck of your visage; with feathers of everlasting paradise; every unfurling minute of the sweltering day and even after the heart of enchantingly fabulous midnight,

It was perhaps my preposterous misfortune; that I couldn't incarcerate every bit of melody on this limitless earth; to unrelentingly shower upon your vivacious grace; for times immemorial,

It was perhaps my pugnacious misfortune; that I couldn't buy you the most extraordinarily expensive nailpolish on this unprecedented globe; paint the
immaculate budding crusts of your toes with regally beautiful color,
It was perhaps my prejudiced misfortune; that I couldn't irrevocably light the lanterns of your celestial eyes; with flames of unassailable and never-ending prosperity,

It was perhaps my tyrannical misfortune; that I couldn't mold the most Orientally exquisite figurines for you on this indefatigable planet; at the tiniest flutter of your marvelously rubicund lips,

It was perhaps my ruthless misfortune; that I couldn't erect a palace of fascinatingly charismatic silver on every path that you philandered; on even the most obsolete chunk of land that you cast your poignant sight,

It was perhaps my indiscriminate misfortune; that I couldn't metamorphose every inadvertently malevolent element of your innocent conscience; into the sky
of unconquerably truthful righteousness,

It was perhaps my indescribable misfortune; that I couldn't commemorate every breath that you exhaled; as the ultimate throne on this eclectically vibrant Universe,

But believe me even if there was somebody who could grant you all of the above at the most mercurial wink of your eye; he still couldn't infiltrate a fraction into your Omnipotent life; or posses you as much as I,

For although I might be disastrously penurious; the immortal beats of my heart loved you more than any organism on this earth could ever conceive; my love
for you was that undefeated spirit that none could conquer; except the divine.

Thursday, March 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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