In bed of illness
Fed
On the remnants
Of hope
Hearing the footsteps
Coming close
Tiptoeing
On the slender rope
Of breaths
Awake, asleep
Between
The blankness
Of
A blurred consciousness
Aching bones
On a well-stuffed
Mattress, warm
From long hours
Of sleep
The dimming light
Of heart
A glare
On burning pupils.
Nosheen Irfan © 2016
All Rights Reserved
A tragic poem and well written crafted with great simplicity and structure. Thanks!
The dimming light Of heart A glare On burning pupils. Aging and its concerns. very well portrayed dear poetess. wonderful imagination to get into the mind of those who are suffering. thank you dear poetess. tony
Aching bones! ! Death is part of us. Thanks for sharing.
Fed on the remnants of hope seems to be endemic today, I know the feeling well. You have written another masterpiece Nosheen, it's so very touching to so many.
On the slender rope of breaths.... scintillating expression
You have painted illness as it really looks. We all fear not dearh this feeling and fear.
Illness is a curse and a reminder of good health how wasted in ignorance. Illness of body, mind, imagination etc..well covered in your poem.....Amusing.100+++