I woke, A bright light hitting my eyes, As if, I were staring at the sun.
A beeping noise, In the light somewhere, Far off, What sounded like voices, Muffled by my own heart beat.
A cloth, What felt like silk, Hit my hand, I grabbed it and realized, I was wearing this fabric.
The light smelled funny, Soap like, Like the soap you would find at a restaurant, With an unsettling hint, of blood.
The taste, Oh the taste, Plastic, a plastic tube, Going into my throat, To my lungs.
Supplying me with oxygen, And then, It stopped, The oxygen had stopped, What i thought was panic, took over.
The beeping noise increased, The light moving closer, The voices, Louder!
A dark shadow blocking the light, It started to come closer, No air. No light. Just undeniable fear.
I tried to move, But more shadow's came, They had me. The end approaching, Nothing I could do.
Then, As if God, Could hear my soul's prayers, Air flowed into me, Into my lungs. The shadows gift to me, Was air, My vision blurred, And then, Everything went black again.
hero is the one who kindles a great light in the world, who sets up
blazing torches in the dark streets of life for men to see by. The
saint is the man who walks through the dark paths of the world, himself a
light. ~Felix Adler