Cataclysm 2020

End of March, cataclysm 2020.

Autumn in hemisphere southern
Spring in-home hemisphere northern.
I wake up to a bleak day...
southeast of Melbourne.

It says 858,355 and 42,309...
On the hurried clock that's crimson
No leniency, no letting up.
No flattering of plateau of our prayers.
Raging up and above, far away from point inflection.

The world is on a lockdown
Forlorn, ghastly, godforsaken.
48 hours away from a million infections
The pandemic rattles on...
Like a train from everywhere to oblivion.

The G8 have borne the brunt
Ravaging the mighty Americas and Europe.
Now its turn for developing nations,
Bracing up for this viral Armageddon.

The marvel cities of our imaginations
The charming solitaires of world civilization...
Rome, Milan, Tehran, Paris, Madrid, and Washington.
Stare like stills of a dream sequence
Infested by the deadly contagion.

It perhaps is a divine decree,
A justice doled out to man
For wiping out innumerable species
For claiming their spaces, jungles, water, and land.
For faithless...a flat abrupt mutation.

We will find a cure,
an antidote for sure.
And then back to pillage and plunder
with our race and games secured.
This time will become a lore.
As dead are easy to forget with time
Life is too busy to ignore.

We can let it go for now, in the name of proprieties.
But let me hang in a question
Is virus indeed an anti-virus?
Fighting its own nefarious contagion?

Image Courtesy: Getty Images