Analysis of A Death More Horrific Than What Death Could Ever Be
I didn't know whether to plunge into the well of treacherously vindictive scorpions; or whether to hang myself insanely upside down from the cadaverously gleaming gallows,
I didn't know whether to chop my skull into an infinite fragments with the merciless butcher knife; or whether to let every conceivable parasite on this boundless planet to uninhibitedly suck blood from my derogatorily diminishing veins,
I didn't know whether to stand bare-chested in the way of the unrelentingly unsparing avalanches; or whether to lecherously drown to the rock bottom of the deep ocean; with an unsurpassable battalion of sinister crabs in my mouth,
I didn't know whether to torch my skin alive in a gutter of insidiously adulterated kerosene; or whether to ruthlessly excoriate every iota of my nimble skin; from the top of my brutally emaciated bones,
I didn't know whether to lethally gouge my eyes with ghoulishly blood coated thorns; or whether to shatter my entire countenance into a countless fragments; sadistically banging my body against the venomously cold-blooded rocks,
I didn't know whether to bury myself alive infinite feet beneath sinking soil; or whether to surrender myself to every construable bit of disparagingly convoluted badness; on the trajectory of this gigantic planet,
I didn't know whether to indefatigably sip vials of hedonistically ghastly poison; or whether to get gored full throttle; by the acrimoniously piercing thorns of the savagely marauding bull,
I didn't know whether to barbarously slash the trembling veins of my palm with perfidiously criminal blades; or whether to make a ludicrously grotesque barbecue of myself for the unscrupulously wandering termites,
I didn't know whether to lividly wither like a despondently crackled leaf; or whether to leap naked fleshed from the pinnacle of the sky; to crunch my every bone with stray pebbles and rocks on earth beneath,
I didn't know whether to let the demons crucify me on the sacrificing altar torturously sucking every speck of my exuberance under the acridly sweltering Sun; or whether to raunchily take every pistol bullet that hurtled pugnaciously in serene air; right in the center of my head,
I didn't know whether to timelessly incarcerate every cursed breath of mine in chains of isolation; or whether to tirelessly march through a graveyard of sickness; where the ghosts of disease made every instant of my life more crippling than an infinite deaths,
I didn't know whether to lasciviously slit every patch of robustness in my throat with the satanic garden shears; or whether to truculently blast even the most inconspicuous element of sensitivity in my ears with perniciously ribald bombs,
I didn't know whether to indiscriminately inundate every pore of my slavering body with unfathomably unforgivable bitterness; or whether to greedily slurp asphyxiating acid down my throat in incomprehensibly luxurious amounts,
I didn't know whether to forever disappear into the corridors of bawdily nonchalant nothingness; or whether to continuously lick victimizingly threadbare dirt on the lavatory broomstick; like an irascible cockroach all my life,
I didn't know whether to become a live carrion for the egregiously cannibalistic vultures; or whether to surprisingly come in front of a speeding truck; being massacred to a gory absolution without the slightest intimation or respite,
I didn't know whether to limitlessly hurt myself like an uncontrollably prurient imbecile; or whether to jinx myself with the most uxoriously tyrannical spirits of fretfully decimating doom,
I didn't know whether to baselessly howl the last chord of my throat till the threshold of infinite infinity; or whether to perch my diminutive form upon the belligerently flaming pyre; for an irrefutable isolation from the vagaries of this manipulatively
prejudiced planet,
I didn't know whether to eat ominously bellicose cyanide for dessert; or whether to forever snap my inconsequential reflection from the periphery of this fathomless earth; devastatingly fading into a corpse of lunatic darkness,
Her loss was so profoundly unbearable that I really didn't know how to die; Her untimely departure was the most irreversible defeat that I had faced in the chapter of my truncated life,
And therefore; all that I intransigently sought for today; was a death more ghastlier than the most horrific of death could ever dream of or could ever be; such a penalizingly lambasting corner in the coffins of diabolical hell; where the absence of her divinely sacrosanct form would never ever make me cry again.
Scheme | X X X X X A B X X X X X X C X X BA X C X |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101101101011101010011011111111011010 1101101111011100101010010111011100010010111010111111101001 11011011110001101010100110111101101011011101011001011 1101101111010010110100101101100010100010111011011110001001 11011011111110011011101101010100010101011011001011101 11011011010110010110111010101110011101000100101001001101010 11011011110111010110111110101101101000101 11011011101001111111001110110100001101110110010 1101101110101101110111011010010111110011110011101 1101101101010110100101101001110100100110011101111001010111001110010111 110110110101001111011010110110011011101011011100101111100111001 1101101111001101001110010101110111100101001001010001111101 1101101010001010011111011010010011011001010010111000100010001 110110101001010100110110011010100011111010011101001111 11011010101100100100110110101001011010110100101001001010010110 11011011111101001001001101111011010010111001 110110111011111101110001001101110100101011010110010001010100111 10010 110110111000101010111010101100100101001001111100010010111010 01110100100111010111100100101010100011111001011101 01111111011011110101011110111110110101010001010100110101001010011101011101 |
Characters | 4,570 |
Words | 722 |
Sentences | 1 |
Stanzas | 20 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 1, 1 |
Lines Amount | 21 |
Letters per line (avg) | 180 |
Words per line (avg) | 34 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 189 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 36 |
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"A Death More Horrific Than What Death Could Ever Be" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/49459/a-death-more-horrific-than-what-death-could-ever-be>.
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