In corridors where whispers dwell,
They move with grace in quiet stride,
With gentle touch, their stories tell,
Of battles fought and dreams untied.

Beneath the glow of sterile light,
Their eyes hold warmth, a beacon bright,
In moments fraught, they stand as might,
A steady force through darkest night.

With courage drawn from wells unseen,
They mend the wounds, both felt and known,
In every heart, they plant the green,
Of hope and strength where fear has grown.

To nurses, heroes in disguise,
Whose care extends beyond the veil,
Your spirit soars, it never dies,
In every life, your tales prevail.