The document describes how nothing in nature, from clouds to shadows, provided the slightest inspiration. In contrast, with every beat of the author's heart, unlimited sparkling fantasies were triggered in their brain, inspiring them to write infinite lines of immortal love poetry until beyond the definitions of ultimate and hopeless death.

1. 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 queen’s 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 spider’s 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,

2. 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.