The Peace of Ignorance
Tumor’s ripe in the barren
field of her brain.
Hearing that the doctor
has fixed her day, they
dart to her hut.
Before the eyes that do stare,
her wrinkled body’s frozen.
‘Maximum six months’,
the doctor says.
Scissors cannot play on her.
Help’s less and hope’s less.
Six ,seven, eight …months die
on the walls, and are reborn.
Still, her heat ticks like a clock.
She grasps it and gets up
with her tumor like a rock.
She is born new like a phoenix
under the peace of ignorance.
Fabiyas M V
Copyright © Fabiyas M V | Year Posted 2011
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