I couldn't stir or speak, I'd grown so weak,
Even to life my eye-lids was a trying feat.
If I tried to stand, my feet beneath would shake,
My body would tremble, my limbs would quake.
My legs would totter, my head would reel,
Blast-like appeared to me even the gentle breeze.
Slowly my faculties began to stablize,
Day by day I regained my clearer sense of sight.
Debility from my body did at last depart,
With the vigour returning, life resumed its part.
Who was there, after all concerned about my life,
But for my tenacious will I would sure have died.
My body's failing strength at last revived,
I wasn't fated, so it seemed. so soon to die.
I had staged a comeback from the farthest end,
From the very edge of grave I had been returned.
Rarely that illusory shape sprang before my sight,
I would catch a glimpse of her, albeit, once a while.
She wouldn't look at me with love, as heretofore,
Despairingly she beat her head against the walls and doors.
Sometimes she felt becalmed, sometimes ill-at-ease,
Sometimes, maddened in my love, restless would she reel.
Tears of blood for my sake sometime she would spill,
Or with her chin in hand stare statue-still.
Now she would point out her broken heart to me,
Or charge me to my face with infidelity.
Now with her hand on heart stood that moon-like shape,
Now she'd cast on me a longing, wistful gaze.
Now she was found bidding me adieu,
Saying that this woeful life she couldn't endure.
Now she was callous and full of foul abuse,
Now sent messages through the wind that blew.
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