Soft her heart and lips used to be,
Harsh and pathetic her soul has become now;
Errant bellows of her pain slither in the kingdom of hope.
“Will she survive, again, o lord?”
Asked he, soberly, when she was asleep —
Sedated by the serene and silent medicines.
Knowingly or unknowingly, he travels back to the past
In the woods where they fell in love with each other.
Lost he becomes now because he couldn’t tolerate her pain.
Lost he will be soon because she wouldn’t be with him,
Even though she will be closest to his heart.
Days are just heap of havoc and vile times now
Because she is suffering from an incurable disease,
Years ago, as told by the bellicose fate.
Helplessly, she is chained to the beds of hospice.
In the midst of the autumn, she suddenly woke and asked,
“My love, can you see the magenta leaves falling?”