Soliloquy

May the darkness of these dust clouds
hovering above us be soaked to the bone
While unveiling light from its shrouds
that we had managed to outdo alone.

This battle will be won for sure
but hope is at a scarcity now
Nothing like this has befallen us before
nor will we in the future allow.

What do you think of when the day ends?
Does it remind you of the unending sorrow?
Since when did we take to making amends?
Are we now too scared of facing the morrow?

There’s light at the end of this dark hall;
it kills us to see something as terrifying.
We’re used to having our backs to the wall,
victorious until the day we stop trying.

(On Covid-19.)