fables of pandemic unfold
more monsters than gods
take to visual stage
casting blame stones
impaled on their own arrogance
desperate to be seen
as the one
not concerned with people
fleshy pulp of the continent
oozing red into their eyes and hearts
more pledges of gold
in coffers in pockets
skin slaves toil
frontline fodder
without health armistice
broken promises
soiled memories
of what was and still
could of been
when it’s over
people will rise
staves and torches
battering the ivory towers
hoping this time
it will change
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