MIRACLE IN ROOM 273
The doctor walks out defeated,
Forced to question his calling again.
As the door abruptly closes on Room 273,
The Spirit persistently demands His way in.
All dressed up for Death’s arrival,
People all around,
Body not yet cold,
Satan has counted her for the ground.
Consecrating this throne of doubt,
With thoughts of Faith and Hope.
Maintaining a reasonable measure of expectation;
Something not identifiable by a keenly positioned stethoscope.
It happened just like that!
Death’s treasured possession stripped away.
Instead of recording time of death,
They would boastfully testify and say,
That in Room 273,
We witnessed a Miracle this day.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.