So many machines, so much abode working
To hold her here in her broken state dying
That the living world as of fingers slipping
Away from their grasp of her heart beating
This room of white, in this place of sanctuary
Where she lays silent and unknowing reality
That of her untimely and inevitable eventuality
Loosing her to fate and of no fortunes cruelty
The confines of the heart I loved slowly fade
Into the ether of some place of a different shade
I wonder of her thoughts in her mind has made
A dream to carry her soul toward a final crusade
Her hands are going so cold and I long her back
As her breathing shallows and the heart attack
My once confidence of her return fades to slack
Much I wanted and had left to say as words stack
My dry eyes turn to so many uncontrollable tears
As the moment I had learned of in so many years
Eventually takes hold as the angel of death steers
Its glance to her face and sweeps down in reveres
Machines they scream their warnings to doctors
Who come running as my world slows to others
Around me who don’t exist as all I see is of hers
Her soul, her broken body, her spirit, breathing slurs
Silenced voice so choked, inside screams please no
Oh someone please, please tell this cannot be so
They battle fast around her as little does she know
We will never touch, kiss, never our love to grow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem