ICU Karla Marie M. Roldan

In the silence of his deepest sleep,
I can hear cry of helplessness,
The shrieks of pain he is to keep
And the plead of mercy to everyone.

In the calmness of his blunt face,
I can see drops of tears from aching,
The unfortunate frown from his desperate state
And the smile of a man with all certainty

He calls me as if I am the only one,
Hearing his call and seeing his pain;
Understanding his sentiments still undone;
Leaving me no choice but to save him.

Salvation – what is to be done for salvation?
Would it be a touch, a press, a switch?
Would it be tears, prayers, dedication?
Salvation – what is that salvation?

Torned between a sin and a deed,
I stood up and watched his glorious face.
With all the assurance of his certain need –
To be free – letting go in peace.

And I held his hand, with one trembling,
Reaching the Calvary that kept his soul—
And one press – the pain, the tears broke free.
One switch – an important wish is granted.


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