She...

This pale body throbbing still with life ;
this tired skin covering up the spent mass;
this blub of silvery hair that outlines
the still vigorous mind , which pumps still and pumps,
unyielding to fatigue and death;
lies next to me,
breathing in a broken rhythm
yet claiming victory,
denies to resign from life.
She falls asleep amid a conversation,
of her chores and her tribulations ,
with the non chalant ears .
She sleeps,
as the body surrenders
and takes precendence over the mechanical mind.
She eases off for a second or two
till i wake her up
and mar her stolen moments of respite,
till i wake her up just out of habit-
"Ma! stop snoring. will you?"