Cancer Ward
Life, here hangs on a filmy thread of hope
Unskilled acrobats, making tight rope walks
With the deep chasm gaping below
Some too fatigued to feel the stress,
Empty beds bearing
the scars of lost battles,
Shaded rooms brooding in the gloom,
Pervading silence speaking mutely
of burnt hopes and dreams,
the morbid stillness occasionally broken by
stifled groans and whimpers.
In a corner room, he lay,
a dead heap upon the bed,
with no one to keep vigil,
Loneliness, his only companion!
Crowds of fans queued up once
to have just a glimpse of him!
Now suddenly grown older
with all energy vanquished,
he stares into the claws of Death.
His frail emaciated body,
rejecting the drops of toxic drugs,
The dried up neurons refusing
to send signals to the brain,
Eye balls sinking deep,
Cheek bones sticking out,
Tentacles of cancer tightening hold
on every lobe of his lungs,
he lay- on his bed,
a dead log of wood tossed by the currents
Moving in and out of consciousness
He finally slipped into the snares of Death.
The vanquished soldier exited out,
Sans songs, sans fanfare!
poem by Valsa George
Added by Poetry Lover
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