The White Corridor

The screamed instructions
And the piercing whistles, 
Wheels screeching
Drown out the incessant wails.
The white, stark and desolate,
Suffused with colors 
Pale blue and green,
And with sudden splash
Of the vibrant red.
The flashing lights,
Soundless in the awry crowd
As the world waits
And the time looks on
Folded hands, closed eyes
Pained hearts and scared minds
The sun lost in a shroud of black
As frantic hands pump on
On a thudding heart
To keep beating
For yet another birth
The wait never ends
Coffee spilled cold
The hunger gone dry
Forgotten parched throat
The heroes trudge on
On fumes of adrenaline
Sleepless eyes of man
Who was God.
As the life slips through
The fingers, sweat and blood
The body turns cold
Beneath the warm touch
Facing mortality, visited by death,
Failure that haunts every try
And God turns Man, again.

About Guria

An Artist in Science: A Misfit 'cause I choose to be one. "Whenever you find that you are on the side of the majority, it is time to reform" And a Maverick, because, I'm... umm... brilliant?
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3 Responses to The White Corridor

  1. Rajlakshmi says:

    thats a very abstract write … intense and deep.


  2. Rajlakshmi says:

    thats a beautiful write.. very abstract, intense and deep.


  3. Nethra says:

    Is it about war and men dying while world watch them die? At least, that's what I felt it is. Anyway, I liked it. 🙂


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