It was cold when I opened my eyes.
Dark environment- with a glimpse of
Orange incandescent bulb lit at a corner.
The other two were fast asleep,
Almost stagnant,-
As if Time was frozen;
The neutrinos were floating,
Gazing at the victim, who is
Suffocated by his own mucus- Me.

It seemed like the cough was
Suffocating my trachea.
Constant and periodic coughs that
Trembled my inner epithelium,
Providing the fellow cells, an
Unruly ride that oscillated
The entire body, and the bed.

The clock read 1:32 AM.
The rebounds of the mucus
Erupting in my pharynx,
Replicating the Fire Corpuscles
In the rocky dynamic pipes of Fujiyama.

“The Death is nearing” thought I
“And I’m obligated to attend him”.
Recalling my dream, I laid.
A set of numbers- 2.5, 2.75, 3.5.
Circling about, and reappearing,
Periodically, in the same order.

Might have thought it was irrelevant.
But, it was highly correlated with the cough.
2.5- the inner circulation of the Fundus
After a spicy meal;
2.75- a tiny turbulence of a tidal wave
On the day of waning;
3.5- an exorbitant outburst of the lava
Through the cough-seized vents.

I remember myself pleading for 3.5
To not occur.
I remember myself pounding over
The bed, for every quake.
I remember myself praying for the
Death to not attend.