Euthanasia -- A Prose Poem

I lay awake, I lay still,

silent and withdrawn

on my bed, which is my home

for the last year and a half.

I blindly look at the window sill,

waiting for friends who I know not

to come and shed a tear or two

over my invalid, useless soul.

I pray for death to come

soft and quick, and relieve me

from the pain that is not mine,

and the tears that won’t flow.

My brain’s speaking, won’t you hear?

How much I love you all still?

Arms that can’t hold you any more

long to wash His Highness’s feet.

One dawn as I still lie awake,

friends and foes sleeping alike,

smoke billows from above the sky

filling the entire ICU ward.

My breath goes down, as I suffocate

thinking of the children sleeping

in the same wing on warmer beds;

do they deserve such painful death?

I know my time is up, finally

I say my prayer, an extremely long

wait has ended, and I shiver

until the peaceful last cold breath.

Explanation: I wrote this poem from the perspective of a person who has been lying invalid, probably just on life support for a long time, and wishes death to arrive as she finds her life utterly meaningless. As she hopes and prays for mercy killing, the hospital building catches fire, and her wish is at last fulfilled. However, she dies with a regret that along with her many others are being killed by the dreadful fire, others who did not wish for mercy killing.

Recently a huge fire in a city hospital took many lives, I found the inspiration to write this poem from that devastating news.