Do you want to lecherously quaver like a miserably dwindling serpent; even though scarlet blood still circulated with insatiably untamed exuberance through your poignant veins?
Do you want to prattle like an insanely macabre ghost; even though the most ingeniously innovative fantasies ebulliently fulminated in the dormitories of your
wonderfully precocious brain?
Do you want to crumble like a disdainfully infidel matchstick to lick threadbare dust on the floor; even though astoundingly fantastic muscle bulged from your legs and splendidly robust arms?
Do you want to indefatigably inundate the atmosphere with irascibly impudent abuse; even though the winds of philanthropic benevolence profoundly encapsulated the chords of your bountiful throat?
Do you want to implacably exude into vomits of dastardly diseased blood every now and again; even though the chemistry of your visage was tenaciously programmed to unflinchingly confront even the most truculently turbulent of storm?
Do you want to indiscriminately massacre countless innocent in atrocious rage; even though the most benign principles of priceless humanity enshrouded you in blissful timelessness?
Do you want to ruthlessly maraud every vibrantly enamoring wave of freshness in your persona; even though you were marvelously endowed by the Almighty Lord; to spawn into majestically artistic newness every unfurling minute of the day?
Do you want to intransigently rot in obnoxiously cadaverous perspiration; even though the scent of insuperably glorious righteousness congenitally wafted from your holistic soul?
Do you want to stupidly bark all invincibly priceless secrets of your life infront of your penalizing enemy; even though the citadels of irrevocably fascinating solidarity enveloped you like an immaculately fascinating prince?
Do you want to barbarously immolate your very own mesmerizing kin; even though the paradise of fructifying sagaciousness profusely kissed you on every step that you nimbly tread?
Do you want to look like an uncouthly blood-shot scarecrow; even though your countenance tirelessly burgeoned with the ointment of effulgently panoramic
Do you want to lackadaisically submerge yourself into a corpse of diabolically pernicious depression; even though an ocean of unfathomably ebullient rhapsody fervently waited for you at your doorstep?
Do you want to enroll yourself into the depravingly malicious classrooms of baseless obsolescence and morbidity; even though endless cloudbursts of enthralling fantasy tumultuously proliferated in the sparkling whites of your eye?
Do you want to metamorphose yourself into a tawdrily libidinous spirit; even though unsurpassable gardens of everlasting prosperity magnificently sprouted from the innermost crannies of your nerves?
Do you want to get criminally entangled in an unending labyrinth of invidiously sinister underworld complications; even though the gloriously embellished fountain of blissful humanity radiated copiously from your innocent eyes?
Do you want to fall beneath the mortuaries of isolation in the eyes of your revered elders for profane misdemeanor; even though the bow of respectful graciousness perennially brandished your non-invasive soul?
Do you want to keep ghoulishly staggering on cold-blooded stone for infinite births that the Lord granted you life; even though unstoppably blazing enthusiasm jubilantly circumvented each of your intricate senses?
Do you want to savagely constrict your own limitless freedom; even though the voice of unequivocal uninhibitedness intrepidly leapt from your stupendously emollient personality?
Do you want to fretfully dilapidate behind satanically gleaming prison bars; even though you had the impregnable aura to aristocratically discern between the good and flagrantly morass?
Do you want to lethally snap the fangs of your very own existence in your fit of disparagingly idiosyncratic senselessness; even though an indomitable civilization of creative energy descended upon your altruistically unfettered stride?
Do you want to project yourself as the ultimate fool on this earth muttering lividly grousing balderdash; even though the most commemorated symposiums of
perspicacious knowledge; obeisantly knelt forward for your imperial signature?
Well; if your answer to the all of the above is yes then you should definitely drink a bawdy barrel of it; but if you really desired to lead life like an unconquerable king with the ones you immortally loved; then forever say goodbye to devilishly decrepit
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Discuss this Nikhil Parekh poem with the community:
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
"Devilishly Decrepit alcohol" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 15 Aug. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/49788/devilishly-decrepit-alcohol>.