The mouthpieces call,
Will we be spared this carnage?
The end times surely,
Pandemic panic,
Masks are amassed,

The fools plead,
Who is to fall next?
We’ll all gasp our last,
Deflective delirium,
The dead are used,

Hazmats pour in,
As reason spills out,
Our sense drained like a sore,

We should ask ourselves,
What is cloaked by this plague?
What is hidden by our hysteria?

A corona can blind.

Comments
  1. We seem to be on similar poetry themes today ♥

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