We stay up all night
We walk the edge of a knife
At any moment, behold the sight
In our hands, is this death or is this life?
Plunging into bodies big and small
Chest compressions, intubations, we do it all
Breathing and beating, we make the call
When to quit, and spirits fall
Another memory formed between these walls
We know the code-
Sweat, tension, palpitations
Chaotic flurry, slow-motion hurry
If only we could lend our beating hearts
To those who are dying in front of our eyes
Sage Burner Poetry 