I wrote the below poem for this great pandemic that has locked us indoor. I published the full poem on tushstories.com in case you will like to read the full poem.
Title of poem: The Great Feast
With a cloud of rancorous belief and grey relief poised. a bloody passover posed; allegedly retired from its millennium jaunty. With a silent noise at a daggerpoint, oblivious minds steamed up toxic presentation of buffet on the virus table circled with chairs, the fluid meal made whole with rotten cells of toxins inside a globe Preserved by a bat, or the pangolin or the faceless scum in a lab of pathogens or the God's handmade. Who cares? Conspiracies regurgitated. Death is the aroma, a cinch to the guests seated in isolation.
The global food, the great feast; pragmatically served to all and sundry Wuhan embraces the microscopic meal with a grimace; dust raised, alarm silenced. The guests; gluttonous globetrotters with civilized legs reached for a portion; Gourmands grabbed their shares, homeward! It's finished, empty plate on the centre. Sanguinary days; shrapnel of pneumonia shattering lives like an incendiary cut across guests. Vortex of pandemonium lay siege. Cacophony echoed; lock-downs and shutdowns. Economy tumbles. Social distancing from normal routine; each human to their tenths.
