The one who is on his last breath

He grasps my hand with his tightest grip he has his energy lacks his breaths steady and his heart slow. Kneeling on my one knee feeling it beginning to bruise I hold the tears back and the pain is hidden. He is weak and his heart is at large and at caring the sheets drape over him like a delicate flower in a clear glass vase. In the distance murmer of elderly voices from complaints to moans of pains His teeth false and his bones broken. His leg in a cast holding it as a new born baby cradled in its mothers arms. Knowing his breath is begging to decrease and the nearly empty room becoming silent a beeping noise fills the room. Everything happening so quick so sudden his body sits cold and still like stone his face whitens to the color of a jack rabbits small tail. His body cold to the touch I cringe in fear a lady pulls at my side and leads me out of the horrar filled room..