Dont mess with love
Don’t mess with lies; it would hedonistically
massacre you with its fangs of vindictively flagrant
prejudice,
Don’t mess with the scorpion; it would so
ballistically permeate its venomously curled tail into
your nimble flesh; that you’d never be able to raise
your hindside,
Don’t mess with the Sun; it would burn you to
infinitesimal moles of inane ash; which wouldn’t be
accepted even by the land of disastrously disappearing
oblivion,
Don’t mess with the Shark; it would pulverize every
element of your countenance to such a pulverized
chowder; that wouldn’t be visible with even the most
contemporarily high powered telescope,
Don’t mess with the avalanche; it would treacherously
bury you an infinite feet beneath your corpse; a place
so scurrilously asphyxiating beneath the earth; where
even darkness dreaded to dare,
Don’t mess with obsession; it would maniacally frazzle
every sensuously sensitive vein of your persona;
reduce you to such a bundle of delirious
meaninglessness that even the coffins of hell would
blatantly refuse,
Don’t mess with the ghost; it would wretchedly jinx
you beyond the comprehensions of infinite infinity;
torturing you to such an extent; that you vomited raw
blood everytime you witnessed the contours of your
face,
Don’t mess with the storm; it would inexhaustibly
lambaste you against cold-blooded stone; till the time
your bones felt that wholesomely gruesome extinction
was a better alternative instead,
Don’t mess with the knife; it would slice you into so
many unsparing countless bits; that even the most
hideously barbaric vultures would find it bizarrely
gory to digest,
Don’t mess with the lion; it wouldn’t given you even
the most evanescent chance to fulfill your last wish;
before it gobbled you like a robust mosquito for its
afternoon lunch,
Don’t mess with corruption; it would make every step
of your blissfully resplendent existence; more
egregiously strangulating than the werewolves of
ghoulishly satanic hell,
Don’t mess with the vampish seductress; she would
firstly tantalize you to realms beyond supremely
ecstatic paradise; only to mercilessly excoriate apart
every bit of your skin; for stitching her
compassionate night-coat,
Don’t mess with the gallows; they would
surreptitiously creep upon you in your celestially
contented slumber; to make it nefariously and
irretrievably permanent,
Don’t mess with the bat; it would so barbarously pluck
the whites and blacks of your beautiful eyes; that
your face would dissolve into laconically
inconspicuous space for times immemorial,
Don’t mess with the mirage; it would satiate the
chords of your agonizingly charred throat till beyond
eternal eternity; before eventually making you lick
granules of dry sand with acidulous thorns embedded
inside; instead,
Don’t mess with lightening; it would numb the
quintessential nexus of your existence to such a
threshold; that even the most cannibalistic swords
massacring your head would seem to you as a flutter of
a seductive eyelash,
Don’t mess with symbiotism; it would sodomize the
chapters of your harmonious survival in such a way;
that traumatic incarceration would become your sole
mantra to whimperingly exist,
Don’t mess with blood; it would abandon you forever in
the gutterpipe of ostracizing deceit; beheading you as
a lecherously parasitic alien; although you were its
cardinally very own,
And don’t mess with love; it would grant you such a
diabolical death for betraying and tampering with its
insuperably Omnipotent spirit; that life in any form;
shape or fraternity; would never ever in even the most
obsolete of birth; accept you once again….
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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