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The virus plague recedes,
and leaves a wasteland.
Shuttered stores, locked doors,
no concerts and no plays.
People have spent their days
with Netflix and their cats.
And a legion of the wounded still
gasp for air.
Slowly people venture out
to cafes and restaurants.
But so many will never return.
Cities are seashores of empty shells.
Will any hermit ***** dare to make their homes there?
Drove around San Francisco today and wondered why anyone would live there now.
Elliott G May 7
Sickness, death, disease,
rats, bugs, ***** fleas;
Royal knights at ease,
not trying to appease
the masses anymore
as bodies amass on the floor.

Stomping down the corridor,
black-gowned conquistador
in court known as le docteur.
Majestically pointed beak,
leather satchel, utensils squeak
as one two three and four
the man takes to the floor-
And Waltz!

Clack the Castle door.
The wicker-faced figure
grows taller, grows bigger,
and one goes to figure
who first pulls the trigger
And Clasp!
Hands come together as one
step by step, step on the gown
almost trip and fall down,
white as silk and black as dawn;
A smirk met with a frown.

Endless days, deadly gaze
from beyond the red-glass eyes:
A mosaic from the skies
as God's son met his demise,
idolized by commonfolk,
glass sculptures embedded into walls.

The ******* of angels,
interlacing strangers;
masked visage from nature
in the form of bustling bees
busy beguiling Byzantine baronesses,
backstabbing brides, burning bioessence,
*******, burdens, nature's reconnaissance.
Tiny creatures nestled into wooden crates,
by the hands of humans' race;
the beekeepers their only living grace.

The two figures intertwined
Ying-yang dancing under starlight
Snow-white and the seven plagues
dressed in crystal, black parade.

The court jester coughs and gargles,
the monarchs paint the floors with blood,
as the silk road lifts embargoes;
a thousand-year old flood
of plague-infested spices,
time to roll the dices,
is it rats or mices,
who really cares,
everyone's already dead.
To look for love
Where there
Is no love -
To understand the mystery
Of the absurd world -
To put on another mask
In the time of the plague -
To put it aside for sometime:
Meeting with loved ones -

It's been a plague to me,
Like stencilled steel,
I've waited til'the rust kicked in.
Man Mar 22
there are more things in this life
than love
though it seldom seems it
with love itself, in scarcity
the norm are hearts hurting
and in these times
getting close can be a death send
read and write and dream
of times better suited to the casanovic tendencies
that consume you to no end
when the plague is dead
and we have become
but even handicapped, love lacking still sullies you
so put it to the side
just for now my friends
For the last few thousand years, humans have continued to trespass, venture into inhospitable areas, burning down, meddling, or just poking around in natures complex, natural chemical laboratories.

The more humans encroach upon the natural world; the more exposed we are to a highly complex eco system; a system that has evolved over millions of years to support a huge diversity of life in which humans play a tiny part.

As a species we struggle to survive the mosquitoes, not to mention the trillions of other diverse insects, animals, fawner and flora we are now disrupting and introducing to our populations, is it any wonder so many of us are dying.

This disease is a symptom of our consumption and lack of contentment?
Andy Chunn Jan 25
She came from nowhere, mouse-like quiet
At first we thought it’s just a trick
But soon her powers were dark like night
We saw her strength cut to the quick.

Covidia came from foreign lands
But traveled fast with power and speed
And she was subtle with sneaky hands
She quickly knew our wants and needs.

Some ignored her presence here
And chose to be aloof and brave
They would never express their fear
Freedom was their cry to save.

Others feared with cautious worry
And wanted to precautions take
At first we thought there is no hurry
But soon we rippled in her wake.

Covidia forced a change in life
Restrictions limit what we do
Isolation and the daily strife
Removed the things we thought we knew.

She swept away our social life
She caused our isolation
She propagated grief and strife
A plague upon our nation.

Many chose to ignore her power
And haughty would proclaim beliefs
But on the deathbed they did cower
And beg for peace and just relief.

Respect her and her powers now
She’s ruled us for some time
But slowly we will find out how
To stop her on a dime.

A normal life returns someday
Covidia will be lost
Never forget the price we’ve paid
The death and all the cost.
Theanm Ankh Jan 11
She says her lover's died in the plague
She buried him already,
Before you came
Last night, stars bright,
Glinting off her metal *****.

It'd be a disrespect, to uncover the body,
They shrug and say,
Poor widow, lover died of the plague,
And at such a young age.

But check her closet now, don't be afraid,
See the kitchen knife there?
Love's red on its blade.
She said it was the plague
Sabika H Dec 2020
I close my eyes because
I want to sleep through the darkest nights
Of December,
Sink into the depths of my consciousness
Who doesn’t remember
The events of earlier today.

They’re trying to **** me.

Polluted my mind,
And soul.
Left me to rot, freezing
In the bitter cold.

Poisoned me with pure
Lies and deception.
Almost made me believe there is
No solution.
Almost made me believe I
Have no power in this situation.
So yes,
I should cancel my endeavours?
And wait until the damages are reversed?
So yes,
I should stay inside and
Keep my head down
Staring into the
Darkest glowing light
And get ****** into an abyss and miss
On what it truly means to be free?

You almost made me believe it.

I close my eyes in hope of a reset.
I worry if my future will be plagued
By regret.

The soul of my civilisation is infested
With worms and centipedes from the root.
My generation have been bent, burned
And broken into submission.
My elderly in ambivalence die neglected
In isolation,
My needy bite their lip in frustration
Because yet again they have to get
Used to a new brand of corruption.

And we stay silent and lower our heads
And keep our tails between our legs
And say “yes do whatever you please”
And hope that finally they have
Our best interest?

Is this madness?

This is a form of sick, twisted art,
But when did this level of manipulation
Even start?

And there comes a point where
I have to ask myself:
In all this mess,
What is my part?
Why is the government not asking the people, the citizens how they can protect us? And why are we okay with them making decisions without them consulting us? They are spreading lies about everything from the origin of the virus. You want normality so bad you are prepared to sell your soul and still in the back of your mind you know you will get nothing in return. This is actually a world war 3 and the funny thing is that we don’t even realise it.
Eola Dec 2020
The metal boxes which burn people’s eyes

Are a way to escape one plague by immersing into another

On it the people are communicating with portraits

That look like deceased ones' photos
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