Wednesday, January 14, 2026

Marieta Maglas

Glistening Hospital


The bright moon descends,

an iridescent stain

on the canvas of the darkness,

looking like a vast emptiness.

All illusive peaceful dreams

become nightmares.

The silence grows,

extending the lasting 

sense of sadness.

Life and death intertwine,

endeavors cloaked in endearing,

ghostly white

along the walls and beds

decorated with hues of longing.

Light whirls among

the celestial bodies

when the stars release

their bursts of energy,

crossing dimensions

from one end to the other.

Patients move like wraiths,

with delicate steps;

their faces, wrapped in yellow,

betray their need for hope.

Fear hides in the fever,

swirling in unnoticed nooks.

During afternoons,

it transforms into a rabbit,

leaping into the depths

of the soul where 

joy cries out in anguish.

Nosiness spirals through existence.

In hushed lounges, hope fades.

Faint echoes of lethal illness 

linger like leftover food.

A path goes on through 

this mood of life.

The true strife is internal.

Mars awaits at the infernal 

edge of the green.

Doctors wear their worries 

like garments

through the narrow hallways.

Their words bring hope and 

gentle gestures,

aiming to soothe those 

who struggle to breathe.

Beneath the moon, 

new dreams fade,

and new whispers of death

disappear into the gloom.

Illness is a haunting tune,

a contradiction wrapped in

silence and sound.

Each note stirs compassion,

mourning for lives trapped by

destiny's unyielding grasp.


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