Corona By Emmanuel Salia Gaima

It is called a virus;

but I call it our doomed rendezvous.

Slowly it takes life;

and faster it creates panic.

It shifts attention;

serves as a modern bogeyman;

and supports counteraction.

When its victims get tenacious, its tentacles awaken.

It makes the whole world to startle, when it is called.

Its venom nips progress in the bud;

and destroys a whole product of development.

It derails human capacity and leaves the inhabitants isolated.

Ineffable to describe;

still scared of it and rendering me doomed.

Working in the boulevard of no hope.

Hearing siren makes my ears to shrive!

And that hits a non buoyant wave on my eyes.

This makes me download and not upload.

Death, I think about every night;

and my families, I see as enemies very soon

What a virus!

No hope and so the peasant teeter totter;

saying Corona is a hoax.

This makes the heart to die, and our mind to fizzle.

Can I see tomorrow?

I still wonder!

Corona, Corona, Corona !