Place Me In Her Immortal Feet Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Place Me In Her Immortal Feet



I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether a dinosaur would brutally pulverize me; or whether the electric bolts of lightening would strike me head-on
from the ominous sky,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and blend
with gruesomely pathetic cocoons of soil.

I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether a sword would rip me apart to infinite pieces; or whether the lion would swallow me without a single yawn,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and settle down forever in the interiors of my abominably ghastly corpse.

I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether a speeding truck would satanically crush my bones; or whether a dungeon of venomous snakes would stab each part of my eye,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and coalesce with stinkingly grizzly walls of my murderous coffin.

I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether an earthquake would devastate me to raw ash; or whether a forest of wild elephants would break each bone of my tender spine,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and melange forever with horrendous worm and termite countless kilometers beneath soil.

I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether a battlefield of hostile vultures would pluck my heart out; or whether the roof would suddenly collapse on my
skull; metamorphosing me into an inconspicuous fly,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and bond
with wisps of worthlessly non-existent oblivion.

I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether a violently cataclysmic sea would drown me; or whether the horde of cold-blooded wolves would make a curry
out of me; for their nocturnal delights,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and forever sink into the trajectories of imprisoning nothingness.


I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether a bullet would explode the most intricate arenas of my brain; or whether the ominously satanic witches would
sacrifice me like white mice,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and leave for my expedition of irrevocably ultimate disaster.

I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether a shock would treacherously electrocute each ingredient of my body and blood; or whether the mountain of lethal scorpions would pierce my innocuous flesh; like barbaric chicken fry,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and disparagingly disappear without leaving; even a single trace of mine.

And I didn't want to know how I was going to die; whether the land of mesmerizing heaven sent its harbingers to take me; or whether uncouthly lecherous hell descended on every step that I tread by,
But it is my humble plea to you O! Almighty Creator; to place me in the immortal feet of my beloved; just as I was about to relinquish my last breath; and sleep like ghost in my grave; with no medicine able to open my dead eyes.

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

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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