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.
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