WITHOUT LIFE Without him I was indeed a Sun; but without my fiery set of flamboyant rays, Without him I was indeed a tree; but without my entire conglomerate of green leaves and resplendent petals, Without him I was indeed a panther; but without my ferociously deafening roar, Without him I was indeed a mammoth book; but without my grandiloquent set of alphabets and words, Without him I was indeed a fire; but without my dynamically sizzling repertoire of golden flames, Without him I was indeed a lock; but without my power and invincible grace to protect the blissful dwelling, Without him I was indeed a mountain; but without my handsome summit; which once upon a time used to tower handsomely towards the open sky, Without him I was indeed a bar of chocolate; but without my sweetness and delectable charisma; rotting fetidly in an obsolete heap, Without him I was indeed a pair of rubicund lips; but without my voluptuously seductive and congenial smiles, Without him I was indeed an ocean; but without my flurry of ravishingly mesmerizing and supremely salty waves, Without him I was indeed a cloud; but without my globules of life yielding and sparkling rain, Without him I was indeed a house; but without my inevitable network of fortified doors and transparent windows, Without him I was indeed a rose; but without my stupendously alluring perfume and Kingly redolence which I used to waft every second across this boundless Universe, Without him I was indeed a car; but without my steering wheel; maneuvering wildly towards the valley of death as each moment unfurled by, Without him I was indeed a butterfly; but without my hinges of opalescent wings; lying dilapidated in a remote heap; well cloistered away from blatant sight,