The glare of the silver and shimmering blade
Cuts so deep,when there is twisted rage
The blank canvas,the skin of life
Ripped and slashed under the flourescent light

Dreams and screams of a distant song
When will it be over,it has taken so long
The discovery of an aching twitch
Paralyzing pain of several a stitch

Not knowing of any encounter
Of the living nor the dead
A soft cozy billowy pillow to rest your head
There is faint sounds of voices low
Above, the bright lights aglow

You are in a state of transition
Pushing your own body out of remission
Tailored cuffs of cotton and string
Hold you down,like a nightmare,against a dream

In your mind,you can hardly remember
Tranquility is all you can sember
Restlessly,your thoughts are racing
Unknowingly the gas you are tasting

Suddenly you are gently awakened
Strangers,but not foes are at your bedside
Softly whispering to bring you to
Wake up,They say it is all over,you did good

Everything is going to be alright
The severity of the wound is not of plight
You will soon retrieve your health
We wish you a speedy recovery,and plenty of stealth.......