Saturday, April 11, 2020

Plague

We stay within our homes in silence

Sadness walks outside our doors,
Through the empty streets,
Sometimes with sirens that sing of anguish

When will this river of tears, broken dreams, and coffins cease to flow?
When will hope visit us?
When will a smile touch our vacant eyes and static lips?
When will the bronze serpent be raised in this desert?

When?

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