Pain

The body flickers, fading slow,
endurance knows not where to go.
 
In such a ward, behind joy’s veil,
iron beds, rusted pipes exhale.
 
Oxygen tubes, corroded, frail,
parched mouths lined in silent trail.
 
Beside me sufferers lie in rows,
their breath a whisper, each one knows.
 
I weep in torrents, tears that climb,
toward the sky beyond all time.
 
Yesterday they went away,
to the theater where surgeons play—
 
Some returned with fragile breath,
others vanished into death.
 
A window leans above my head,
I turn, my gaze drifts far instead—
 
A football field, with shouts of cheer,
blue sky rings, so bright, so clear.
 
But here I lie, with pain subdued,
today by drugs my blood is wooed.
 
Tomorrow they cut—my fate’s unsure,
shall I return, or breathe no more?
 
I have not seen the way back yet,
between two worlds my soul is set.