Artist - Angelina Bambina (Shutterstock)
I feel for the dead
rising from their sleep;
I fear for the world
dreaming still, its elaborate
projects all coming to a
standstill, as the hospital beds
are filling up;
I can hear the
on the streets outside;
humans are quarantined
and there is a dread in every eye,
a feeling rises up in my throat,
the barking dogs, chirping birds;
a miracle, yes, still ring hollow.
I stare out of this window of
Doom, and emerge into an isolation
not knowing if I was ever ready
to face a question,
that had no answer,
only instructions on
only eyes, no faces,
only spaces, no places;
of a future, reduced to a set of
strange moments, in human
they tell us not to panic,
they ask us to wait for good news,
a green board on an unhealthy house,
a planet in the clutches of apocalypse
no religion to cure this,
no mob chanting to wash hands,
no one, nothing,
it is all that goes on in our minds,
distance yourself, for humans can distance
themselves, from each other yes,
from an idea, not from a self-created future
a lesson for us in every hospital
a deity for us in every white coat,
hope for us in every scared breath,
who will face the rising sun of tomorrow?
Who will never face it again?
For who can decide the value of life, in a split second?
In the gravity of shifting scenarios,
who amongst us will be next? Nature or humans?
Can we wait for an answer before it’s too late,
think my friend,
think for that is all you can do today,
who knows where we are tomorrow?
A Night Owl original, this piece has been authored by Yastika Sharma.