I stand before the threshold 

Of the dire circumstantial area,

Where the scent of curable drugs

Gives me a feeling of nausea. 

 

The long white corridor giving 

Room to sick and sickened patients,

Simultaneously tests the patience

Of related hearts living in suspence.

 

While the projected monitor-beeps

Fail to needfully and steadily beat,

Death nearly arrives and stalls

Behind the concrete hospital walls.

 

It waits to take yet another along

Whose determination isn't strong,

Inside the weak bricks it hides

To take the soul to the other side. 

 

I wait for someone to be cured

Behind the doors that say unsure,

I wait because I know he's there;

He is vigorous enough to bear. 

 

There's hope of a positive call

As a strong will to live stands tall,

While death extendedly stalls

Behind the concrete hospital walls.