If The Heart Danced Out Poem by Nikhil Parekh

If the eyes danced out of their sockets for times immemorial; morbidly bouncing in the untamed wilderness; with a ominous juggernaut of pugnacious snakes,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but frantically groping in a whirlpool of meaninglessly threatening; and sinister darkness.

If the teeth danced out of their sockets for decades unfathomable; insipidly blending with pathetically lambasted chunks of flattened soil,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but starving to an unprecedentedly murderous extinction every instant; remorsefully missing
tantalizing morsels of nature's priceless fruit.

If the fingers danced out of their sockets for centuries unsurpassable; resting in disdainful contentment; within the interiors of the horrifically abominable pigs stomach,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but ludicrously slaving on brutally tyrannized ground; without the tiniest of ability to defend itself.

If the hair danced out of their sockets for times unfathomable; taking perfidious pride in becoming the witch's morning breakfast; as well as supper for the perilously invidious night,
The impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but ridiculously castigated and ignominiously looked down upon; as a battalion of white mice feasted on
the; scintillatingly barren scalp.

If the blood danced out of its sockets for countless years; satanically hosting an insurmountable fleet of lecherous parasites,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but only as a infinitesimally diminutive skeleton; tottering towards the brink of extinction; even in the heart of vivaciously vibrant life.

If the legs danced out of their sockets for unimaginable moments; to melt like frigidly
opprobrious pulp; even as the most minuscule beam of sunshine; filtered its way through the crimson clouds,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without any ambition to wholesomely succeed; disastrously staggering to juxtapose with
deplorable despair; even before it could alight a nimble foot.

If the brain danced out of its sockets for fathomless fortnights; to be consumed timidly by grazing goats and sporadically loitering tiny worms,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without even an inconspicuous iota of fantasy and desire; witnessing each little part of its being insidiously massacred; in hopelessly dumb submission.
If the conscience danced out of its sockets for infinite millennium's; to reside with the savage scorpions; as they diabolically feasted upon its irrefutably righteous visage,
Then the impoverished body would continue to exist no doubt; but without the most remotest element of truth; miserably succumbing to the web of disgustingly
capricious lies.

Paradoxically to all of the above; if the Heart danced out of its sockets for infinite more births to unveil; philandering indefatigably behind the handsome hills; as the golden Sun kissed the evanescent horizons,
Then the impoverished body would not only continue to exist; but would immortally continue to exist and evolve; into an invincibly romantic cloud of everlasting love; love; and only passionate love.