A new person
every moment is born
awakened by a lethal virus
a vicious line it has drawn

on the canvas of living
peace and joy it has torn
all over is the painful cry:
when would this scourge be gone?

before this insidious advent
how the sun  so brightly shone
none could now soundly sleep
day- hours are like sitting on thorn

the heart trembles and falters
waiting for the promise of a new dawn
love gathers to heal and strengthen
while the faithful pray: Come, peace, come anon!