Dying Thoughts...

The mask, my face, the oxygen flows
I breathe in a cadence,
like a drum keeping time.
If the drum stops will the breathing go on?
I am now tethered to this mechanical device
providing me life like a fetus in the womb.
Where did breath go, what took it from me?
It was the virus, this virus common to all in here.
This ward is full of victims on assisted breathing
struggling to breath, struggling to stay alive
like a fish, thrown on the bank yawns ,
hoping to take in water. When will he
go motionless. When will we go motionless?
I am resigned but I’m angry at the person
who infected me. He could have prevented this
suffering. He could have protected me from him.
He could have saved my family from tears,
from loss, from regret of good byes,
from the pain of having to watch. And those
who work this mission impossible,
have to go home and weep sadly for another
loss on their watch.
He feels no guilt, no remorse, oblivious
to the massive pain and suffering he
caused through neglect and simple listening.