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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