Lost Will Poem by ann rta

A slow line of donkeys crosses the wasteland
with hooded vultures riding on their bare backs.
Grey smoke rises from fierce flames burning in random fires.
Bleached bones of animals litter the decaying earth.
Trees are stunted,
their branches twisted and drooping in supplication.
There are no flowers growing,
only black weeds and scattered bouquets.

She stirs restlessly, as the nightmare recedes.
The haunted eyes are covered by swollen lids,
that she doesn't want to open.

She's tired of remembering that cold white room
with machines that throbbed and flashed,
probing and intruding into the yellow wasting form.

Was that really the man who swept her up in his arms,
lifting her into happiness,
caressing her tenderly as they made love?

Hot tears seep as her mind surfaces but her body is still.
There is no energy,
she hasn't eaten for so long.

Her hunger is to find the man she knew,
stroke his strong body and kiss his soft lips.
Laugh play and sing together.
That would be her heaven,
she longs to reach it soon.