The unspoken

The tall deep green grass on the plateau
is undulating ominously today as an unseen virus
is formed and breathes down the valley.
Reindeer´s bones are a signal of things to come
the silence of mass- graves is menacing.
Thresholds are defenceless keeping the pestilence
from entering your rooms killing the fire
in your heart and apathy rots from the inside.
Ice cold is the blues sky it will not yield,
the deep green grass whisper the is no escape
join us now.