I Wasn't Prepared Poem by Nikhil Parekh

I was prepared to wait for robust health; spending many a limitless decade; miserably entwined in the dungeons of decaying debilitation,

I was prepared to wait for fascinating desire; worthlessly whiling countless hours on the trot; in the mists of disparagingly dolorous monotony,

I was prepared to wait for enchanting prosperity; remorsefully stagnating on infinitesimally threadbare soil; with my haplessly tattered rags splitting more
obnoxiously than ever before; under the sweltering Sun,

I was prepared to wait for unflinching camaraderie; staggering like a worthless urchin on the desolate streets; with only insidiously parasitic mosquitoes perched in unfathomable quantities on my lambasted chin,

I was prepared to wait for scintillating righteousness; wasting the entire tenure of my
impoverished life; truculently besieged by the graveyard of delinquently deteriorating lies,

I was prepared to wait for voluptuous desire; meaninglessly trespassing through the aisles of nothingness and cripplingly lackluster stoicism; for infinite more births yet to unveil,

I was prepared to wait for triumphant happiness; horrendously kissing the corpses of ghastly malice and defeat; till the time I traumatically tread on the trajectory of this earth,

I was prepared to wait for insatiable ecstasy; derogatorily rotting in unsurpassably pallid doomsday; letting my entire visage metamorphose into a gutter of criminally sucking leeches,

I was prepared to wait for unconquerable glory; meekly subjugating my body to the whiplashes of the society; pathetically collapsing like a pack of soggy matchsticks; even before a soul could raise his voice,

I was prepared to wait for dazzling flamboyance; stupidly diffusing every unfurling instant of my life; into a coffin of delinquently gruesome morbidity,

I was prepared to wait for Herculean strength; withering away like an insipidly insulted porcupine; at even the most diminutive draught of parsimonious wind,

I was prepared to wait for majestic eloquence; barking like a disastrously cacophonic and wounded crow; till the last breath I ghoulishly exhaled,
I was prepared to wait for unequivocally explicit candidness; substituting the chapter of my life; with the webs of satanically bizarre manipulation instead,

I was prepared to wait for patriotic victory; baselessly pulverizing myself every unleashing moment of my life; with the threadbare smoke of derogatorily dastardly defeat,

I was prepared to wait for exhilarating mysticism; deliberately enshrouding my agonizingly trembling demeanor; with maliciously devilish monotony from all
sides,

I was prepared to wait for prolific success; nonchalantly swallowing the tail of thwarting failure; everytime I exuded into even the most infidel of movement,

I was prepared to wait for spell binding aristocracy; lecherously staggering on each path of my life; abhorrently dedicating each second of my time; swapping flies on the walls of my sordidly stinking hutment,

I was prepared to wait for ravishingly perpetual breath; insanely offering every element of my mind; body and soul; to the thunderously marauding demon and
the hell of torturous death,

And I was prepared to wait for every conceivable comfort and richness on this fathomless earth O! Almighty Lord; but I wasn't the slightest prepared to
wait for her ecstatically vibrant caress; I wasn't the slightest prepared to wait for her celestially immortal and bountiful love.