They found me in the shadows deep,
Where I had sought eternal sleep.
Their voices soft, their hands so light,
As they pulled me back into the night.
A pressure wrap, they gently wind,
To stem the blood, my pain confined.
Their touch so careful, yet firm and clear,
They work in silence, but not with fear.
And then the cuffs—they close with care,
Cold steel that lingers in the air.
Not punishment, but a tethered chain,
To keep me safe, to ease the strain.
They fear I’ll flee, return to night,
So they hold me close, with metal tight.
Yet in their eyes, I see the grace,
A quiet sadness in this place.
Their duty hard, their kindness real,
They bandage wounds they cannot heal.
With cuffs they bind, but hearts still ache,
For every soul they strive to wake.
In gentle chains, I’m led away,
Alive, though lost, and made to stay.
Their hands may hold, but their care is true,
For even in darkness, they see you.
