Sterile Horizon

White walls whisper, sterile and clean. A sacred space where no germs are seen.

Unscrubbed feet never cross the line between the fields where the pure light shines.

Twelve inches wide, the safety zone. A silent dance, a rule well-known. No shadows fall

where the angels tread. Only the living, only the dead. Sterile horizon,

untouched and bright. A shield of silence in the fight. No trespass here,

no whispered sin. Only the living, only the dead. The clock ticks slow,

the air stands still. A kingdom guarded by iron will. One wrong step,

the spell undone. The battle lost before it's won. Hands held high, the gloves of