Game of virus
A game of Religion & Politics , Played by predators called orators. People or prey! Bowed watching the play. Sun at dusk, moon at dawn, This was the voice of the might. The chorus repeated: Our saviour, you are always right. Sitting cross-legged at every site, An invisible force was the fright. Announced claimants who are always right: Coronavirus! We caught it too tight. Hospitals or the gamble wards, Like in the black hole of Calcutta, Asphyxiated men, Queued for Oxygen like a commoner in ration lines. Imbalanced population wins the game, Moist crematorium as wet matches, Igniting the bodies like fire crackers. Extra hours at burial grounds, A token to enter the final destination, Clay and corpse of assorted religions, A ramp from pause to full stop. Religion and Politics brawler to win, Oh! Both lost to the God of disease.