What’s your name, I heard a voice ask?
I wanted to answer, but I was too sick to speak.
It’s ok, don’t worry a voice said that sounded so sweet.
Bed four I heard the voice shout.
Tears formed realizing this wasn’t going to be a simple in and out.
Seeing my tears that was not of sadness, but fear.
You’re going to fine; you’re going to be fine, the voice whispered twice in my ear.
I didn’t know the voice and the voice didn’t know my face.
Helpless and unable to move, but I felt safe that the voice was in my space.
I felt sick as a dog that day.
I saw death with his hands out to take me away.
I can’t let you take him, I promised he would be ok, I heard the voice say.
What I had was really bad and there was no cure.
I knew what I had could kill me and kill the voice too.
The voice knew too, yet it came through, until the virus passed through.
Why might someone do that, knowing they may die too.
An angel from God, that’s who.
It has to be something Devine.
To stare down death but still treat me so kind.
The voice is my hero, but it didn’t wear a cape, it wasn’t famous,
and it wasn’t in the book of Who’s Who, instead, the voice sounded
just like you.