The Waiting Game
Waiting in my box of life,
we listen to the voices
filled with panic and terror.
We hold back,
waiting for asylum,
dread filling our essence.
For every second delayed,
the farther away he moves.
We anticipate every need.
I check my tools.
Is it all there?
I look down at my hand
and I wonder, will they do?
Will they stand the test?
Can I hold back
the tide of death
as it swirls around him?
Quickly, we move in,
I see his lifeless form
laying on the battlefield.
I approach hesitantly,
dodging dirt and debris,
running through a hailstorm of lead.
Finally reaching my prize,
I pray for a breath.
I slowly pry loose
the enter twined fingers of Jordan
from around his throat.
I shield his broken body
with my own as I work.
slowly, I defeat the demon.
Eyes open, groggy, mumbled words
through a haze of morphine.
"I knew you'd come,. Doc."
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