Finding Heaven On Earth- In The Prostitute's Form Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Tell me. Does the Omnipotent Sun in anyways; blaze through her impoverished dwelling an iota less; than it unrelentingly streams in through the bricks of your
sanctimoniously incarcerated castle?

Tell me. Do the poignantly royal roses in anyways; waft their mesmerizing redolence through her dingy dwelling an iota less; than they unremittingly enlighten every conceivable morbid space in your chauvinistically victimizing castle?

Tell me. Does the iridescently milky moonlight in anyways; majestically enamor her shattered dwelling an iota less; than it celestially sweeps across the ostentatiously emotionless chimneys of your sonorously prejudiced castle?

Tell me. Do the nightingales in anyways; ecstatically sing the songs of victory around her inconspicuous dwelling an iota less; than they perennially murmur the hymns of mellifluous freedom in the brutally ensnared gardens of your fetidly dictatorial castle?

Tell me. Do the untamed forests in anyways; cast their spells of unconquerable mysticism on her match-boxed dwelling an iota less; than they timelessly and
inscrutably whisper upon the caged boundaries of your atrociously sadistic castle?

Tell me. Do the boundless oceans in anyways; perpetuate their rhapsodic tanginess upon her dingy dwelling an iota less; than they uninhibitedly grant new definitions of unbridled liberation to your sacrilegiously damned castle?

Tell me. Does the victoriously unabashed breeze in anyways; magnificently cool her truncated dwelling an iota less; than it undauntedly soothes every despairingly frazzled nerve within the realms of your acrimoniously perverted castle?

Tell me. Does the euphorically torrential rain in anyways; timelessly fertilize her penurious dwelling an iota less; than it thunderously sweeps every ounce of cadaverous fretfulness from each adulterated whisker of your demonically
chained castle?

Tell me. Do the first beams of optimistically unfettered dawn in anyways; ebulliently caress her measly dwelling an iota less; than they bestow fresh rays of priceless hope to every callously blackened cranny of your heartlessly wanton castle?

Tell me. Do the limitlessly fantasizing clouds of heaven in anyways; voluptuously enshroud her restricted dwelling an iota less; than they transcend over every bit of tyrannically diabolical monotony in your ominously worthless castle?

Tell me. Do the seeds of a blissfully futuristic tomorrow in anyways; compassionately blossom infront of her mercurial dwelling an iota less; than they brilliantly transform every ounce of impotence into invincible fertility; in your uncouthly
monotonous castle?

Tell me. Do the iridescent stars in anyways; triumphantly twinkle upon her miserly dwelling an iota less; than they brilliantly illuminate every torturously slandering night in your cold-bloodedly devilish castle?

Tell me. Does the sky of impregnably truth in anyways; unassailably bestow its essence of mellifluous sweetness upon her evanescent dwelling an iota less;
than it perennially metamorphoses every whisker of debauchery in your raunchy castle; into an undefeated paradise of righteousness?

Tell me. Does the chapter of eternally blessing procreation in anyways; insuperably enters her stingy dwelling an iota less; than it unceasingly abounds and sacredly inhabits every single living being in your fecklessly cavalier castle?

Tell me. Does the lap of divinely mother nature in anyways; tirelessly shower its spectacularly robust fruits upon her naked dwelling an iota less; than it royally replenishes even the tiniest desire of all those residing; in your ornately
subjugated castle?

Tell me. Do the steps of the Omnipresent Temple in anyways; perpetually shower their philanthropically unbiased blessings upon her bourgeoisie dwelling an
iota less; than they forever remain potently present in your claustrophobically
robotic castle?

Tell me. Does the Universe of unendingly titillating life in anyways; handsomely proliferate in her side-lined dwelling an iota less; than it inevitably replaces every element of deadened injustice; in your lifelessly bigoted castle?

Tell me. Does the heartbeat of immortal love in anyways; perennially fructify in her ethereal dwelling an iota less; than it indefatigably celebrates the true fervor of inimitably unparalleled existence; in your despicably anarchist castle?

So if God and his Omnipresent Nature didn't differentiate the slightest; then tell me you inconsiderately venomous man; who hell were you to consider the sensuously nubile prostitute; a horridly sinful untouchable; who the hell were you to consider
the tirelessly bewitching prostitute a deplorably live carrier of disease; devastation; unpardonable betrayal; devilish licentiousness and hopelessly silencing death,

Amazingly and specially even after you surreptitiously fathered countless more of your own kind; via that same unshakably ravishing prostitute form; finding the
most gloriously victorious of heavens right here on planet earth and in the tantalizing recesses of her bosom divine.