High Dependency

The drone of machines goes on and on with the endless cry of the ward sisters song energy rises like billowing smoke with fiery glances to the ones who dare choke. Invisible hand undertake their chores over the barks and commands of the insistent roars. The sick and the fallen lie still in their beds as the army of staff turn it all on their heads. Rigorous routine steps up a pace to the onslaught of pressure that's put on this place Healing and harmony must still exist It's the law of the land, that one must insist. So many bodies, so many hands dancing to orders, between the commands And so it continues day after day In this battlefield tent, where the injured must stay.