mahussain3
Son of Aa'ishah(R.A)
A Little Mercy
I hold her cold, frail hand in mine
It hard to believe that these are the same hands
That held me as she rocked me to sleep
That rubbed my head to soothe the nightmares
The same strong hands that made me feel safe
These hands had a rare strength
They were always there when I needed them most
The tools of a warm heart and a keen mind
Now they are lifeless and cold
Attached to a dying mind and a heart too stubborn to quit
Uncomprehending eyes stare at a ceiling
Eyes that once held a million smiles
That watched for me as I came up the road from school
That still showed the soul of a young girl
As I read to her about places she would never see
Her eyes were always a soft brown
The colour of honey and chocolate
They reflected the warm light of the woodstove
And glowed with yet a warmer light
Now they are dull and gray
This shell that was my grandmother
A mockery of who she was
Held alive by tubes and wires attached to blinking lights
Fed through yet more tubes
Artificial, something she never was
I have watched the nurses as they came and went
I know what I have to do
To give her back the dignity that she once lived
Turn off the alarms, flip the switches
A last caress and a final mercy.
I hold her cold, frail hand in mine
It hard to believe that these are the same hands
That held me as she rocked me to sleep
That rubbed my head to soothe the nightmares
The same strong hands that made me feel safe
These hands had a rare strength
They were always there when I needed them most
The tools of a warm heart and a keen mind
Now they are lifeless and cold
Attached to a dying mind and a heart too stubborn to quit
Uncomprehending eyes stare at a ceiling
Eyes that once held a million smiles
That watched for me as I came up the road from school
That still showed the soul of a young girl
As I read to her about places she would never see
Her eyes were always a soft brown
The colour of honey and chocolate
They reflected the warm light of the woodstove
And glowed with yet a warmer light
Now they are dull and gray
This shell that was my grandmother
A mockery of who she was
Held alive by tubes and wires attached to blinking lights
Fed through yet more tubes
Artificial, something she never was
I have watched the nurses as they came and went
I know what I have to do
To give her back the dignity that she once lived
Turn off the alarms, flip the switches
A last caress and a final mercy.
