Poem- Ode to Asthama

Ode to Asthama..

Every breath counts...the shortness of my breath perturbs my sleep...
It wakes me up to the scary darkness, in the dinginess of the mosquito net,
I grasp for breath...more of it and more and more.
I want every drop of air to reach those sacs in despair...
Yet the feud only grows as the wheezing sound from my bellows lo and behold!

Every breath counts...
I call to my mother...struck with guilt...to help me breathe...
she pushes herself up to pass on some weeds...

Every breath counts..
The gloominess under the eyes surmounts, the curvature of the back and shoulders turns further round...ohh! I gasp for my life gear...the stickiness in the lungs refuses to give away...

Every breath counts..
We both eagerly await the darkness to fade, as the sun rays provide some relief to the scramble of the night...
I trod myself up unwillinginly but with a hope..that one prick wil give me a new lease of life
For every breath counts....

Swarupa