#WritcoPoemChallange
#CoronaVirus
The days too eventually fell silent,
No sounds, not even by the crows,
All you could hear was the sound of,
Fear knocking on the doors,

Not the scurry of busy nurses
Nor the hurry of tired doctors,
Not the reading of holy verses
Nor the fearful cries of sons and fathers,

Not the loud laments of dying patients
But the beating hearts of scared observers,
Not the bold headlines of televisions
But the dripping sweat from frozen brows.

The streets were garbed in loneliness
And no foot was there to greet the tar,
In no corner stood there evilness
For even thieves sought to hide afar,

Hatred slowed to a screeching halt
And no prejudice could fill the air,
Less people striked in plain revolt
Of a world much like a bad nightmare,

All guns curtailed their cruel commotion,
As their owners ran to seek safe cover,
All knives abandoned their commission,
As people ran from one another.

The world was at its quietest
And life, at its easiest,
No longer was there any bicker
Our tongues had simply lost that flavour,

I find it all an irony,
That pestilence cured the hate in me,
That all the evil finally stops,
When it's time to write our eulogy.