Before I start this poem, I would wanna add a quote said by Martin Luther King --> " No one is truly free to live, until one is free to die"
There I see him lay, awake and still,
Tacit and secluded, staring at window sill.
Impassive for years, with an Illness,
Which never decided to leave his body axis.
His Drugs were out of action,
Unplayable expenses was a caution.
His cries and mourn were rife ,
Pleading and attempting to end his life.
Soon, There was a meeting,
To euthanize him, was the magisterial granting.
Sending him to his death bed,
with a dreamless sleep that lulls the dead.
The duty was rendered to me,
My soul wasn't ready to agree.
Abashed, if this was the right option here,
For a life was ought to disappear.
No friends or relatives were there,
None wanting to be his heir.
An I.V cannula was slowly inserted ,
And a syringe already loaded.
He was asked again,
On wanting to invert his decision?
With pain in every heart tick,
He wanted the poison to do the trick.
Call me a Brutal Killer,
or a qualified murderer.
I located his vein,
Injected the lethal tubocuraine.
closed my eyes and gushed,
everyone around were stunned and hushed.
The clock was ticking,
I could sense my sweat dripping.
His Pulse and Respiration went low,
and suddenly became zero.
His eyes began to close,
And soon he went into an endless doze.
His hands held my coat,
As his life traveled in a painless boat.
Making me feel the hardness,
Ceasing my emotional weakness.
NOTE : I know Euthanasia (MERCY KILLING) has been a very controversial topic and international debates have been happening over it, henceforth I wish to inform that this poem is completely a work of fiction and doesn't resemble to any character in this poem weather living or dead.