I lie in bed; my heart feebly beats.
Nurses, doctors run around
covered in masks and shields not a moment of peace.
Behind the closed door my beloved sleeps.
We lay there fifteen days or more,
covered with oxygen masks gasping to breathe.
Now I lie here, she on the other side,
I knocked on death's door to let me in,
trade my place and let my beloved live.
Deaths’ angel ignored my plea.
She lies hanging on a cliff
ready to fly to an unknown destiny.
Raindrops drizzle down my cheeks,
filled with remorse and grief.
Cobwebs in my head like empty vessels,
echo the drumbeats of marching bands.
Sounds of tinnitus shrieking bells,
screech through my ear with flames.
The myriads of color grow hazier now:
only pitch black and gleaming white.
Far in the darkness, shining fireflies;
starlit carpet from moon spreads to welcome the bride.
Calm tranquility reigns in moonlight;
tomorrow there will be another sunrise.
Author: Tasneem Hossain
Bangladesh
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