Sirens of incoming ambulances alarm their ears,
But they never fail to assuage the sufferer's angst and fears,
Next to God , is the stature given to these warriors,
So unswering and unwavering are these onus carriers.
And I wonder if we could ever pay off our debts,
From the many sunrises to the many sunsets,
To these heroes trading in their lives for ours,
Selflessly turning their cheeks to their own maladies and scars,
And losing their sleep over someone else's sleep,
So that his well-wishers aren't cornered to sob and weep,
And even when they do, they flip through the sides of their bed,
Repeatedly till they fall asleep out of weariness and dread,
These heroes lose tracks of hours and days,
To keep the flame of assurance and hope ablaze.
They breathe in the oceans of the ailing and the rivers of the dead,
Unchaining them to a condition too stranded.
They paint a ray of hope when are hearts go colourless and pale,
When cascades of diseases and ailments hail,
For they know it's them whom we ultimately lean on,
From day to night and from dusk to dawn.