The earth casts a shadow,
And our hearts ache,
How can we be safe?
Even if we lock ourselves down, our homes and our lives.
Tumultuous is the pain,
Heavy it reigns
As we scramble away from each other and follow our own paths,
Hear of thousands dying and thousands in pain,
Millions perhaps someday!
The agony one feels,
Of helplessness and loss,
To the moon we have gone and back,
Mars is in our grip we boast,
Yet, why do we succumb to a blasted virus?
Our populations decimated,
Lives destroyed.
Defeated by an enemy we can’t even see,
And hang our heads in shame and grief.
Where is the cure?
Hurry, we say,
You have defeated polio,
You have sent small pox scurrying,
So, where is the vaccine?
For we are dying.
Touch not your faces, they say,
Stay the distance, stay away.
The enemy is everywhere.,
Creeping onto us from nowhere:
In the daylight, in the dark, in the cold or in the heat, naked or clothed,
On the prowl for the young and the old,
Rich, or poor, man or woman,
King, queen or prime minister.
Anyone can be a victim.
From Wuhan to Italy and Iran they fly in a jiffy,
Like aliens invading without space ships
Right here in our midst,
Making us fools daily.
A curse it is,
Like the wicked stepmother who cast a spell, and then laughed,
Fairy tales last forever,
And return to haunt us, even when we grow up.
How do we kill her, we ask – seriously?
Snow White we may forget,
But Corona,
Strangle it now or you will forever regret.
Empty malls,
Empty halls,
Empty buildings and tower blocks.
Empty highways,
Empty shops,
Empty universities,
Empty playgrounds and empty schools.
I hear the silence; it weeps.
There is no day,
There is no night,
More time for me,
More time you,
More time for us – perhaps!
Look at the bright side,
That is all we have in our stride.
So, get rid of the heavy heart,
And put your chins up.
When is the end?
What did the Nostradamus say?
Who cares,
When our bread and butter matters,
And we may not be able to pay the rent.
Don’t live in dream world,
For this is a reality check.
The governments are going bankrupt,
Worse still, if they are corrupt,
Yet hope hangs on a string,
For you and me,
Crying over a killer pandemic.
*** Cover art by Paulo Silva on Unsplash.
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