In marble halls where hope and dread are knit,
A sanctuary stands, where life's fierce war is fought;
A citadel of balm, with potions lit,
Where pain and panacea in a dance are caught.
The odor of chloride, a bitter bloom,
Hangs in the air, a somber litany;
Chambers resound with the sick's funereal gloom,
Yet in this keep, champions battle silently.
......
In marble halls where hope and dread are knit,
A sanctuary stands, where life's fierce war is fought;
A citadel of balm, with potions lit,
Where pain and panacea in a dance are caught.
The odor of chloride, a bitter bloom,
Hangs in the air, a somber litany;
Chambers resound with the sick's funereal gloom,
Yet in this keep, champions battle silently.
......