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Compassionately shaking hands with them, won't in anyway enshroud every
ingredient of your blood with the most unforgivably cancerous of disease;
won't in anyway annihilate you forever and ever and ever from the trajectory
of this fathomless Universe.
Profusely intermingling your shadow with theirs, won't in anyway diminish you
beyond the threshold of disparagingly dolorous oblivion; won't in anyway
obfuscate your integrity with the clouds of tawdry salaciousness.
Tirelessly talking with them, wont in anyway make you the most delinquently
inferior organism on this boundless earth; won't in anyway char your
inimitably distinctive identity.
Amiably kissing them on their rubicund lips, won't in anyway evaporate every
ounce of immunity from your body; won't in anyway transform you into the most
treacherously cursed entity alive.
Uninhibitedly fondling their silken hair, won't in anyway jinx you with even
the most infinitesimal parasite on this limitless earth; won't in anyway
trounce you to your dolorously fetid grave.
Mischievously nibbling at their innocuous ears, won't in anyway numb each of
your senses to even the tiniest trace of sound; won't in anyway engulf each
brilliant day of yours with hopelessly asphyxiating blackness.
Jubilantly adventuring with them in the inscrutable forests, won't in anyway
sap you of untamed powerhouse of effulgent energy; won't in anyway make you
an impotent pinch of mud fretting for an infinite lifetimes.
Profoundly staring into the whites of their impeccable eyes, won't in anyway
blind you forever from every conceivable iota of pleasure and panoramic
light; won't in anyway pulverize you into inanely impoverished nothingness.
Eclectically sketching their harmlessly nimble silhouette, won't in anyway
vengefully deteriorate you into a pool of insipid nothingness; won't in
anyway render you as the most ignominiously slandered artist alive.
Holistically eating with them in the same bowl, won't in anyway metamorphose
you into an ocean of endlessly lambasting tears; won't in anyway inundate the
walls of your stomach with venomously aggrieved poison rather than the
celestial fruits of the Creator Divine.
Unflinchingly entwining your fingers into theirs, won't in anyway
horrendously deplete you of every ounce of your strength; won't in anyway
impede you from symbiotically coalescing with the rest of eternally
fructifying living kind.
Sleeping impregnably close to them to shelter them at night, won't in anyway
grant you a place in the most vindictively unsparing of hell; won't in anyway
prematurely bury you a countless feet beneath your veritable grave.
Flirtatiously tickling their nubile skin, won't in anyway hang you upside
down in the most brilliantly blazing of Sunlight; won't in anyway seal every
other synergistically untainted option for you in the chapter of resplendent
life.
Wholeheartedly embracing them as one of your own kin, won't in anyway
perpetuate in you the germs of the most ominously tyrannical of disease;
wont in anyway render you satanically crippled for the remainder of your
life.
Affably conserving each droplet of their golden sweat in your palms, won't in
anyway erase the spell binding destiny lines of your existence; won't in
anyway proclaim you as a preposterously shameful misfit for the fabric of
society.
Altruistically applying the balm of humanity on their inexplicable wounds,
won't in anyway assassinate every bit of harmonious knowledge that you had so
wonderfully assimilated since the first cry of birth; won't in anyway torment
you even after you died.
Uninhibitedly drinking water from their unfinished glass, won't in anyway
transform every ingredient of your omnipotent blood into unbearably
vindictive venom; won't in anyway truculently slain the royal seeds of
virility from your endowed life.
Unceasingly enlightening them with the magical artistry in your persona,
won't in anyway endanger even the most diminutive shade of existence on the
perennial planet; won't in anyway transform you into a sinful eunuch wailing
the last words of your life.
Unassailably blending every breath of yours with theirs, won't in anyway
defeat you the slightest in any philanthropic quest of your blessed life;
won't in anyway abruptly snap the fangs of your miraculously proliferating
existence.
Immortally bonding every beat of your heart with theirs, won't in anyway make
you the most abhorred criminal of this globe; won't in anyway metamorphose
every definition of true love into sadistically betraying hatred.
Paradoxically, whereas doing all the above things with them won't in anyway
harm you the tiniest, but their not receiving the same from you would
definitely make them die the most ghastliest of death. A death which would
not be a result of their suffering from HIV/AIDS, but an extinction which
would be the most horrifically gruesome. A death which would be the most
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Writer Profile
Nikhil Parekh
Nikhil Parekh, from Ahmedabad, India is a Love Poet & Eight-Time World Record Holder for his Poetry with Limca Book of Records ( 2nd in official world rankings to the Guinness Book of World Records).
He is an author of Poetry Books which include- 1 God ( 522 pages ), Love versus Terrorism (607 pages), You die , I die - Poems(1600 pages), Life = Death (1200 pages), The Womb (250 pages) , Hide and Seek(610 pages), The Power of black (500 pages) , If you cut a tree , you cut your own mother (208 pages), Longest Poem written by Parekh (80 pages) .
The poet's complete poems, poetry books, awards and works can be visited on the Internet at - nikhilparekh.org or nikhilparekh.com .
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Comments
True Antony Felix O. O. Simbowo | Dec 29th, 2004
Its time attitude changed especially in Africa where there is so much stigma.
Likewise Rahul | Jan 10th, 2005
Nikhil I agree with u and what u have said about the life people lead with HIV/Aids and belive they need our love and care, and not us judging them for what they have or hoe they got it, love it man keep up the good work
Rahul
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