Whispers of the Soul

First responder

The First on Scene

The engine roars loud as we screech to a halt,
A world frozen still, caught in a vault.
With hearts pounding fast, we leap from the ride,
The weight of the moment sits heavy inside.

In the blink of an eye, chaos unfolds,
A tapestry woven with stories untold.
The air thick with tension, the stakes towering high,
As I step into shadows, where whispers can lie.

Every detail a puzzle, each second a race,
I scan for the injured, the lost in this space.
The cries of the wounded, the silence of dread,
In this fragile divide, where hope hangs by thread.

With breath held like glass, I assess what I see,
The pain and the fear, the potential debris.
A split-second choice, every moment a test,
To summon the courage, to do what is best.

The pulse of the scene thunders loud in my ears,
As I fight through the panic, the worries, the fears.
For the weight of responsibility rests on my soul,
To bring back the light, to restore what's whole.

I call out for help, my voice steady and clear,
To rally the others, to conquer the fear.
In this dance of the urgent, where lives intertwine,
I'm the first on the scene, and this moment is mine.

For every life saved is a testament true,
To the courage that blossoms in all that we do.
In the heart of the chaos, where darkness can gleam,
I stand as a beacon—
I am first on the scene.