He wakes up,
shivering from the cold yet sweating from the heat.
confused, dazed, appalled; he tries to sit up.
He feels a sharp pain go up his spine.
He falls back down on his bed.
He's panting now; trying to breath but the walls are closing up around him.
A tear rolls down his cheek, then another, then another.
He's in searing pain.
He musters some strength and reaches up his arm.
He grabs his phone, he calls a friend.
There's banging on his door.
His friend has arrived.
Bang! Bang! BANG!
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The door flies open.
The friend goes in.
He is being carried to the car by his friend.
He is unconscious, but breathing.
Breathing lightly, shallowly.
Holding on for dear life.
He is quickly received in the E.R.
He is wheeled to a ward.
The nurses take his vitals.
They set him up on IV fluids.
It's all they can do.
His heart is growing weaker.
His heartbeat is getting slower by the second.
The friend panics and screams out for a doctor.
The sign says that the doctors come at 7:00 am.
He is convulsing now.
His body jerks uncontrollably.
His friend runs around trying to find a doctor.
"Help! Please help!" The friend begs.
The nurses converge around him.
They try to help him.
They do all they can.
The colour drains out of him.
He is gone.
The friend wails.
The nurses hung their heads.
The doctors weren't there to save his life.
Doctors gather around the houses of parliament.
They have been on strike for a while now.
Understaffed, underpaid, and overworked;
Hospitals barely stocked with medicines;
Simple medical equipment lacking;
They want the government to lend an ear.
They want better for themselves and their patients.
The doctors are arrested.
"No CBA," says the overlords.
"You're greedy and inhumane," says the powers that be.
All the while, the potentates are cashing in on their dirty money.
The dark lords are rising.