Five Stages

The long droning beep blends with the ringing
In your ears as shock sets in. Stood, gaze fixed but unseeing
Into the small sterile white room, where only a few moments ago
The steady pulse of beeps and whirls had almost driven you to sleep.
Now maybe half a dozen green and white clothed bodies
Stand silently, hands held shakily somewhere between
Waist and chest. Their breathes rushing, pulses pounding
In a way that seems obscene.
You just stand in the doorway, coffee slowly being sapped of heat
As you watch no one move. Your head throbbing with the endless echo
Of one single word…no. No, no, no, no no nononononono!
The coffee seems to hurl itself from you hands. You feel nothing,
Not even the prick of a needle delivering a sedative into your veins,
Before you let go and fall into the spreading numbness,
Down into the darkness, as the drone of the flat line's finally shut off.