The Only Mission Poem by Nikhil Parekh

The only mission that my hands were born for; was to defend your magnificently enchanting entity; from the most inconspicuous iota evil lingering around,

The only mission that my legs were born for; was to transport you invincibly safe; to the most splendidly rejuvenating destination of your choice,

The only mission that my eyes were born for; was to enshroud your life with brilliantly majestic sight; enlightening your every disparagingly gloomy path with
profoundly optimistic light,

The only mission that my tongue was born for; was to flood each aspect of your monotonously languid existence; with the sound of enamoringly melodious
happiness,

The only mission that my lips were born for; was to trigger an everlasting smile upon the impeccable contours of your face; kiss you till times beyond eternal infinity,

The only mission that my teeth were born for; was to perspicaciously disentangle the thorns from the fruits you ate; pulverize all the gruesome impediments that came your way,

The only mission that my shadow was born for; was to entrench your royal countenance from all sides; with incredulously fabulous enigma; and mystically tingling excitement,

The only mission that my neck was born for; was to dexterously drift for you in an infinite directions; finding you the ultimate clouds of paradise; which you had perennially desired,

The only mission that my fingers were born for; was to maneuver you like an invincible fortress even in the most treacherous of darkness; even in the most
insidiously bizarre moments of life,

The only mission that my ears were born for; was to indefatigably massacre those diabolical voices trying to ghastily perpetuate through your pristine surroundings; decimate even the most infinitesimal trace of obnoxious sound before it could arise,

The only mission that my blood was born for; was to impregnate all those despairingly lackluster moments of your bedraggled life; with an insurmountably
overpowering aroma; more poignant than the rain pelting down,


The only mission that my versatility was born for; was to marvelously fulminate the artist lingering profusely in each of your ecstatically royal senses; engender you to erupt into an unfathomable myriad of bountiful directions,

The only mission that my mind was born for; was to propel you to tirelessly fantasize; dream in an ocean of incomprehensibly silken charm; oblivious to the manipulative vagaries of the uncouth world outside,

The only mission that my lashes were born for; was to ignite the flirtatious child in your charismatic persona; make you feel every instant as if blooming with the freshest cry of blissful life,

The only mission that my patriotism was born for; was to unrelentingly march forward till the time you achieved your absolute goal in life; wholesomely evict
the flurry of disastrously abominable traitors hovering around your divine countenance,

The only mission that my skin was born for; was to sequester your immaculately shivering visage; from the acrimonious rays of midday Sun; as well as avalanches
of gruesomely freezing winter,

The only mission that my soul was born for; was to perpetually ensure that your irrefutably heavenly spirit continued to robustly exist; even centuries after you had died,

The only mission that my breath was born for; was to make you forever live with the astronomical fervor of life; witness you magnificently blossom into a fountain of resplendently dancing moonlight,

And the only mission that my heart was born for; was to immortally grant you the love of your destined life; not only for this; but fathomless more exotically vibrant lifetimes.