Sickness

Sickness depresses my spirit And shut down the doors of the sense organs My soul recoils within the shell of my body My heart retreats to a solemn feast. There is within the flesh a great void of vanity The spirit ruminates on bizarre planes Seeking the verity of essence and elevation To life is indifference, death becomes a handy foe. Life and death are allies to trickery; For we neither could sleep nor wake At day overcome by a sleep-in-consciousness And night, burdened by the waking-in-slumber. The mind conjures up blurry images Through grim eyes veers hallucination The head goes a spiral in nocturnal planetary As the body on a bed of limbo is confined. Monotonous drone of air in empty jar whirred Round and round the head dome Whose sinew and vigor once thrive but now Whose nerve and wit have become vain. In sickness the body and spirit convulsed And brings heaven and hell to closer horizon: The body’s nourishments are repulsed by it The spirit retreats from life’s elevations. The Supreme comes to the fore of reason Above all ambitions and abundance, Which are subject to breath; when it runs afoul, We shall again ponder its mystery, in sickness!