In the hospital room
the doc watches Death come,
last breath a quiet sigh
surrounding the crash of stats.
He has visited Death’s country  
and left with its blue bruise stamp
on his wrist and heart,  
very thoughts.
No goodbyes.  No regrets. None.
Just schemes to betray it
when it tries to betray him
wrapped in a hospital sheet.
He save what Death stole.
He pull life out by the heels.
He rebirth it again,
give it years.
Death’s revenge took his mom first.
His dad made it two grave stones.
Today his pockets were all full
of Death’s black-blue pebbles.
The plague was blooming,
the pollinators were keen.
The world was a Kaddish,
torn cloaks and moans.
He saw blood through the sheets:
the new nature was just
now beginning its Spring bloom.

Shadow of vague awe is all over
death amuse all humans but game,
forced survivors to live in terror
as panic sitch began again,

This is the time of Apocalypse,
A pernicious disorder excited to nation,
which unfurl with great ease
cause humans to be in a state of confusion.

It’s Corona outbreak,
A deadly disease strucks
enforced to lockdown to avoid perils,
ruined connections who cared for one another
people gazed in awe at the dark tendrils.
Nature confiscate all revenge with cruel
men are helpless counting Zombies,
edify individual a lesson of existence
Or ready with near ones to buries,

The deadly Corona has in its full pace,
don’t be restless, shatter the fetters of Covoid;
Now coins cannot secure our entity
no machete can oppose against fate
the only way is to self-isolate.

Ominousness.
Looming spectre,
Illuminated by the cast
lights of fanaticism

Abstraction.
Looming absurdism,
distorted by the stained glass
of your personal apocalypse.

Consumption.
*******, ravage-ly appearing spectre.
From the mouth of serpents.
From the blood of a bat.

The world cries 'alas' in a throaty bellow,
The spectre dancing in rhythm to the melody of the chaos.
The melody of plague building the roads of conquest.

The many faced spectre drifts across the blue,
eyeing the masses.

This abstract ominous consumption of hope.
Swallower of light.

The spectre walks on water.


We are in the caste net.

why worry the world
it is inevitable
we will start again