The Headmaster’s Daughter
Freshly woken from sleep,
A sleep full of callous dreams;
Of terror trite and silent screams,
Where her bridal dress fades
Into a spotless white hospital attire.
She was brought in a wheelchair
Under the curse of Guillain Barre;
Left years ago with death to grapple
But now was better, told
A healing scar under Adam’s apple.
Lifeless arms and legs,
A body limp and wasted,
Her brown hair neatly tied,
Her fair skin too faithfully following
The contours of her facial bones;
Upon her lips played
Lamentations in undertones.
She tried to lift
The bony framework of a hand
Upon the doctor’s command,
But in vain;
Her eyes glittered with pain
Blurring the spectacle
Of white-washed walls,
Heavy tears did fall
Amid cheerful, empty words of all.
“Why me?” she must have thought
“Why not?” bitter reason’s retort,
“Nature’s wont to play her pranks
Like fishermen waiting upon the banks
In the sparkling sunlight,
To cast the net in life’s crystal waters;
It was your turn; that’s all.”
Beyond courage and hope
Both terror and grace
Colored what had been a lovely face.
Reminiscent was her empty gaze
Of ripples like memories fading,
Of the soft splash pervading
The waters blue and clear;
Of little reasons to thank or fear
An omnipotent puppeteer;
Of all presumptuous prating
While unseen perils evading,
The helm of chance we steer.
Guillain Barre Syndrome is a paralytic disease
