almost unattainable the valorization
of a human life seems to come near
that stillborn feeling is fading
from that suffered soul

in an ambient
that doesn't look like
a place where people are cured
the beggar doesn't have
too many options
the room decorated with blood
those stained walls was
not exctly
what he thought

doubt hovers
pain precipitates the decision
no time to waste

mental division
self crucifixion

new problems are coming from nothing
symptoms don't justify all diseases
but he's not the best person to judge it

diagnostic: "jaundice dropsy
hepatic cirrosis
cronic case
imediate internation"