Thursday, 5 March 2020

THE BARD'S THOUGHTS ON COVID-19


THE REAPER HEWS
(The Pale Horse)

Scourges stalk the human race,
Unheralded, unseen,
The Reaper hews - no coup de grace,
Messy and obscene.

The virus grows and many dread,
Few ICU nor cure,
And stealthily, a cancer’s fed -
To final days ensure.

The virus’ exponential spread
Does medicine transcend,
And hawks the walking dead:
Perhaps, the feeble’s friend?

The corvid-19 Holocaust
Aged to grave consign.
Savings on healthcare costs?
Age-care to decline.

Overcrowded in our world:
Needs balance to restore.
Nature and its threats unfurled -
Pale Horse to the fore.

Pynn’s Brook
February 29, 2020

Postscript:

Deep-winter here at Deer Lake,
With time to sit by fire
And wonder at man’s follies
That lead to outcomes dire.