In the quiet halls where whispers tread,
Doctors weave their threads of care,
With steady hands and gentle gaze,
They mend the wounds that hearts bear.

Through endless nights and weary days,
Their courage shines, a guiding light,
In moments fraught with pain and fear,
They stand steadfast, ready to fight.

A symphony of knowledge and grace,
They listen, heal, and gently mend,
In their embrace, the weary find rest,
A promise of life they defend.

With every heartbeat, every breath,
Their dedication knows no end,
A sacred duty they uphold,
In their hands, broken lives transcend.