Tears might have dried from my eyes with the rapid unfurling of time; and the winds of the tumultuous maelstrom ferociously sweeping past my impoverished facial contours,
But I still melt into miserably icy nothingness; slithering like a hopeless shadow on the ground; without the fireballs of justice in your irrefutably Omnipotent voice.
Tears might have dried from my eyes as the seasons galloped by; and the waves of bizarre manipulation took their toll on me; to lead contemporary life,
But I still metamorphose into insipidly infinitesimal ash; wailing incessantly towards the corridors of fathomless eternity; without the marvelously majestic radiance
on your bountiful cheeks.
Tears might have dried from my eyes as the Sun took its blazingly fiery toll over the entire Universe; and an unfathomable mountain of responsibility thrust on my shoulders compelled me to slog like a monotonous bull,
But I still shatter into an infinite pieces of meaninglessness; vengefully abhorring even the most gloriously fascinating of my bodily contours; without the unconquerable valley of sacrosanct righteousness; in your silken palms.
Tears might have dried from my eyes as the nights sped into blossoming days; and the insatiably unending pace of life commanded me to safeguard my persona; from the salaciously hostile pack of wolves,
But I still perennially lambaste myself with whiplashes of treacherous suffering; shrinking to a mere whisker of my original self; without your unflinchingly charismatic ideals of divine mankind.
Tears might have dried from my eyes as the fortnights unbelievably accelerated into marathon years; and the burden to replenish my disastrously famished stomach;
so overwhelming that thoughts refrained to enter my ruthlessly tyrannized brain,
But I still remain cripplingly awake all throughout the tenure of the savage night; dreaming of nothing but ghastly death; without your impeccable sky of
blessings that sprouted from your; gloriously immaculate soul.
Tears might have dried from my eyes as the fireball of Sun every dawn sizzled tenaciously; and the inevitable urge to sequester my kin; took astronomically
limitless proportions in my brain,
But I still feel more devastated than the remorsefully sullen corpse; stabbing my persona with knives of desperation at the slightest of excuse; without your
wand of Omnipresently royal humanity.
Tears might have dried from my eyes as the tumultuous intensity of the air outside torrentially caressed me all the time; and the norms of this conventionally mundane society kicked me brutally; if I cried,
But I still feel like a gruesomely decimated piece of shit; wasting each moment of robustly vital life; without your incredulously magnetic and timeless touch.
Tears might have dried from my eyes as I was born again after a countless births; and the horrendously augmenting robotism of this planet; rendering each part of my dwindling body; to just an unemotional machine,
But I still feel like a solitary warrior perennially oozing blood in the midst of the ominously excoriating battlefield; barbarically dying every instant although
possessing fountains of mystical breath; without your aroma of ingratiating oneness and stupendously ever-pervading charm.
And tears might have dried from my eyes as fleeting minutes sped into wholesomely new civilizations of tomorrow; with each element of my penurious visage extraordinarily busy; in acclimatizing to the devilish dust around,
But I still indefatigably pledged to end priceless life; with each beat of my heart transforming into a skeleton of worthless hatred; without your perpetually poignant principles of humanity; your unassailable belief in the religion of unshakable mankind.
- 0 Views
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)
- Український (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:
"Tears Might Have Dried From My Eyes" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 19 Nov. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/51096/tears-might-have-dried-from-my-eyes>.