From watching American action dramas...

"Saviours"
By Scaranouche, the po(t)et, in a slightly political mood

At the end of a long, dark corridor
Lies a man, on the floor, hardly breathing

I wondered what he was thinking

Shadows running across his face
Every muscle tensed, a precipice before him

I wondered if he'll ever hurt again

Guards are running toward his door
Weapons heaved, grim faces, vigilant focus

I wondered what they were feeling

Twelve o'clock sharp, as they pick him up
And carry him to a hospital bed, then returned

I wondered if he'll ever believe again