When The Ends Meet

• Yumna Rahman, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2022

The foul odour of decay is smothering my pallid senses
The sound of rainfall pelting the outer world is giving my ears a headache
I only hear them; I can't see them
Where I am precisely is an enigma to me
My head is writhing in agony from this terrible discomfort
I am immobile; only what is under my perspiring fingers can I feel
My dry blood and presumably other folk's flesh are layered on the coarse bedding
My mad state is surrounded by buzzing, and the voices are unfamiliar and distorted
My wounded body has been resisting my efforts to move it for so long
The time and date have no significance to me; they are unimportant when all hope has been lost
My haphazard memory keeps tormenting me with vivid visions
I take one final long breath whilst gazing at the glorious moonlight
Such is life, I thought as I gradually drifted away from the nightmare, preparing for a long tranquil slumber