Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2020
Pandemic
The word itself describes its art,
Lots of deaths, people leave with a scar,
Maybe you  think its effect is temporary ,
But don’t you worry, these pity days will haunt you
Till you are buried.
The life started so beautifully, cro-magnans and environment
Living symbiotically,
What happened after that, you all know, history of the earth changed,
When the man learnt to fight and take revenge.
You really think its all a particular regime’s  fault,
Well don’t worry! I guarantee you.
Mother nature was planning this since long halt,
And why not, after what damage has been done,
Maybe she just wants to remind us ,
That power is just a time’s rust.
So bury yourself in your glass palaces,
And promise to whatever you believe,
If there is even a slight chance that you aren’t preyed,
Then you will never  ever predate.
Written by
sanchit mehta  18/M/INDIA
(18/M/INDIA)   
222
   Gideon
Please log in to view and add comments on poems