Buried Alive

Pale faces stretch forth into sunlight,

Earth cautiously sighs winds of relief, "It is over!" chorus the sea of humanity,

Flame of plague burned out in disbelief.

But what lingers behind smells foul,

Sparks anew ashes fluttering in air,

As unseen as the minuscule germ,

That merely days before resided there.

Smiles abound but only on masks,

For we tremble fearful beneath,

Leaders of power spout pleasantries,

But the virus, distrust has bequeathed.

Arms reach outward to clasp hands,

Halt apace, bacterium occur in thoughts,

Lackadaisical stutters whilst retreating,

Tree of brotherhood sours and rots.

Silent rush dominos, just as it had before,

Each resume abiding within their worn abode,

New disease settles in, blanketing minds,

Fear trickles deep, fear foments panic-mode.

Not the apocalypse seers envisioned,

Yes streets barren, but alive merely hide,

But a fate worse than visit from reaper,

Isolated indoors we self-buried alive.