In the Masses

Charaon’s Boat

Sink with souls

Floating dangerously low in the Styx.

Styx’s banks crowded with death

Cerberus guards them – awaits their turn.

Anubis’ scales work

Overtime – teeter- tottering

Hearts

Reapers over work

And so are Hermes’ wings

And So, the judges three.

Peters gates stands a long line.

Reapers as overworked as

Much as their

Life ‘saving’ counterparts

Over – run-ning

- On short supply

Shortage ever-growing.

And always choosing

To which receives the

Scarce supplies.

Unclaimed masses

Filed into refrigerated trucks

Escorted to

Mass catacombs

--unamed—unclaimed

Many—dying ‘alone’

Connected by

Lagging video calls

- goodbye. –

Normalcy, an illusional dream

Never returned to the masses

Families losing loved ones

And dreams.

Lost-new normalcy

For the masses.