There a soldier lied on the exhausted sanatorium bed.
Stayed unvoiced and numb as he bled.
Faintly opened his eyes to observe the mayhem,
While a red uniformed nurse was announcing several names.
At the same time I, Dr. Bell, the way I am known;
Reached and stood beside him to analyze the boy alone.
The other doctors refused to examine him as he was a foe.
Whereas I, Dr. Bell known as a savior had a life to bestow
Neither did he move nor did he watch me staring at him,
But relentlessly looked blankly on a white wall with a grim.
Suddenly, he gradually inserted his red hand into his pocket;
To pull out a photograph soaked with blood and sweat.
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he kept on staring at it.
I wore my spectacles and approached nearer to inspect it.
I was accurately traumatized to an extended degree;
For what it contains is a picture of his family!
He closed his eyes and remained silent for his life to dim.
Finally, he inhaled his finishing breath before the last glimpse...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Touching. Will family karmic ties be strengthened in lifetimes yet ahead? Great imagery, good write.