In the silent room where shadows play,
The breath of sickness softly lays,
A whispering chill that steals the day,
And bids the vibrant life away.
Yet through the darkened, weary night,
A flicker of hope begins to ignite,
Healing hands reach through the plight,
Turning the shadows into light.
The body, weary, worn, and frail,
Finds strength within to lift the veil,
A testament to the enduring tale,
That even the weakest will prevail.
As dawn breaks upon the weary soul,
The heart embraces its renewed goal,
To cherish life and make it whole,
With the healing touch of love’s gentle role.