The Fighting Spirit

And then I fell in that fathomless pit,
To be honest I was young and fit.
Darkness was finding its way inside,
My pulse was struggling in its regular ride.
Eyes were tired, mouth was dried;
Having the pills my skin cried.


Blood inside me was deprived of force,
Force to cut through the valleys of its regular course.
The virus soldiers were merciless at my biological cells,
It seemed no one would live to tell the horror tales.
My senses were kidnapped as I lost their control,
And my strength was challenged from skin to my soul.


My body went musicless as my tired cells,
Desire to see my dear ones resonated as a temple's bells.
And the weight of hell was tearing me like pork,
Demons were eating me all with their knife & fork.
Perish me, O! God, with your speed;
And let me become a soul which is freed.


Words became whispers and hence gaspings,
Death and life seemed to me not separate but siblings.
Seeing them together I asked my soul-
Is this the end of my earthly role?
Heavily medicated, I rested my backbone;
May be another one or is this the last day known?


And years later when I remember that time,
Thank god to help me during my weakened rhyme.
And congratulate myself to have a fighting spirit,
That steers me out safely of every difficult heat.
Let us be strong from inside and let us nurture that thing,
It is your only way out of any suffering.