Intensive Care

I observe death,
painfully.
Watch it
overcome,
slowly.
Praying, loudly
with passion,
and conviction,
for it to make a turn
and come back to me.
To us all.
Silently wishing,
as time continues,
dragging on and on,
and still I see no signs
of recuperation.
Or restoration.
And without the element of
surprise,
or miracle,
or even dumb luck,
on its side…
That it would just give in.
Quickly.
Peacefully.
Compassionately.
It its sleep.
Like a true victim would.