His beasts
gather
slavering
crowding round for the final
dance
The air in the Austin
is subdued
pressed down by the weight of
pale ghosts
that float above the beds on the ward
Air conditioner hums
dimpling the skin
through thin gowns
that cover nothing
but expose
the bruised flesh
the naked helplessness
the embarrassed whispers
of bodies
bloated with disease
necks puffed up
groins lumpy and distended
Nurses waft by
fluff pillows
log stats
moving amongst the visitors
with careful concern
His beasts
wait
impatient gaping maws
drool pooling on the scrubbed floors
claws clacking as they circle
The specialist
appears , thin arms and
gawkish hair askew
murmurs words
bone biopsy
elevated cells
chemo
all falls
pattering
a death rain
upon his tired patient
He offers hope where none resides
offers platitudes
to cover his inability
to cure
promises to return
and fades into the pale walls once more
His beasts
sense submission
resistance falters
one hand dangles down
to be licked and tasted
The monitors
buzz
one word
blinking red neon
against the eyes of the gathered
soon
4 comments:
mmmm creepy, ominous feel to this. I'm always a bit doubtful about the wisdom of telling people they're going to die of a terminal illness. I always think of the effect of the mind over the body. Maybe if we didn't tell people they were going to die, some of them wouldn't?
A valid question, and one I have pondered also, I understand your point entirely, but then, if someone has a terminal illness, is it not better to let them prepare themselves and their family for it?, I honestly don't know
yeah I know. It's a difficult question. I always think if it happened to me what would I do and I really don't know.
My mum wanted to die at home and she wanted us girls to look after her, so we did, but I would never want my kids to do that for me. It was very hard to watch her go through all that and to see the things we saw.
I have memories of that time that I really wish I didn't have.
On the other hand, in some ways it was a very special time and I'm sort of glad we got to spend that time with her.
sigh ... so hard to know the best way to do those things. Mostly I just hope I never have to make those decisions.
I have never had to go through what you went through with your Mum, so I cannot pretend to understand what you had to deal with.
From where I sit, I would like to think, some good, something special, would be gained from going through that difficult process, a bond renewed perhaps, memories shared, but the reality of it would change the perspective I know, changes how you view it and remember it.
I'm hoping I will just keel over at the keyboard typing out a poem *smile*, I'd like to die like that lol
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