WITH EVERY BEAT OF MY HEART

Not even the most voluptuously sensuous of clouds; surreally

wandering till eternity in fathomless cosmotic space; had the
slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most tantalizingly nubile of dewdrops; profoundly
shimmering in nocturnal moonlight like the ultimate queens
garland of exotic pearls; had the
slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most invincibly Herculean mountaintops;
unflinchingly towering towards the heavens in the face of the
mightiest of attack; had the slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most royally undulating seas; timelessly blessing
the pristine shores with gloriously unassailable froth; had the
slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most perennially overflowing of treasuries; from
which rained solely a torrentially unstoppable cascade of
mystically resplendent silver and gold; had the slightest of
inspiration,
Not even the most mellifluously rejuvenating of nightingales;
perpetuating the unlimitedly dreary atmosphere with
miraculously ameliorating sounds; had the slightest of
inspiration,
Not even the most boundlessly burgeoning of skies; celestially
reflecting an ocean of bounteously virile crystalline blue; had the
slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most vivaciously cascading droplets of rain;
metamorphosing every tawdrily sinister patch of aridness on
earth into a paradise of mesmerizing beauty; had the slightest of
inspiration,
Not even the most ubiquitously silken strands of the inscrutable
spiders web; aristocratically glimmering in opulently milky
moonlight; had the slightest of

inspiration,
Not even the most amazingly vivid of rainbows; filtering fresh
rays of optimism and hope in the forlornly dreary sky; had the
slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most redolently proliferating of soil; the magical
virility which unfathomably multiplied in lightening seconds of
time; had the slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most beautifully poignant of roses; synergistically
radiating their handsomely scarlet personality to every
conceivable cranny of this boundless Universe; had the slightest
of inspiration,
Not even the most triumphantly blazing of Sunshine; blistering a
path of irrefutably fearless righteousness in the most bashful
face of blemishing defeat; had the slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most victoriously iridescent of moonlight;
unceasingly enlightening the sordidly hedonistic fabric of the
wretchedly incarcerating night; had the slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most effulgently undefeated of blood; indefatigably
diffusing the spirit of intrepidly exhilarating camaraderie; had
the slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most boundlessly unfettered of deserts; the
flamingly impregnable expanse of poignant golden granules; had
the slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most tranquilly bewitching of shadows; the
uncannily titillating tinge of timeless mystery that they
incessantly emanated; had the slightest of inspiration,
Not even the most fierily magnetic of breath; the endlessly
insuperable cavern of seduction that it ignited in every tangible
and intangible open space which it wholesomely enshrouded;
had the slightest of inspiration,

Whilst with every beat of my heart; there unlimitedly triggered

unconquerably sparkling fantasy in even the most obsolete
dormitory of my brain; and I inevitably
and inspiringly wrote an infinite lines of Immortal Love Poetry;
till even beyond the definitions of veritably ultimate and
hopelessly silencing death.