Dull fear drops on me, leaden, gray.
The Wuhan virus leads its way.
I huddle in my lonely room
And lose a staring match with doom.
Only my hopeful thoughts take wing
And flap off into a lifeless Spring.
I wonder at each frightened breath
If I've drawn in the silent death.
Night and clouds now form a pawl--
The sun does not come out at all.
We cower and we draw apart,
Each with terror in his heart.
We endure prison cells of days.
Life's colors fade to somber grays.
We peer outside, taut with suspense,
At what might hide the pestilence.
Look at this choking calm it's made!
One's life is like one's hopes--decayed.
The brave go forth to keep