The virus and the damage done

As the vulnerable were locked inside and shielded

Then each of us in earnest with our gods, we pleaded

To end the dread that raged and roared about us like a hurricane

Soon we began to slowly realise that in our pain

None of us might ever be the same again

For each of us our future plans lost and conceded

As we watched each yesterday accumulate

Each day became yet one more crossed off date

In a calendar of desolation that stretched out before us every one

The death count mounted and infections spiralled on

Not one of us could shield our minds from the devastation

And the mental scarring of the damage by the virus done

And now although we are not without hope

Within that minuscule flickering of positivity

There lurks a certain taint of inevitability

A sense that the damage has already been done

And that no amount of redemption can bring us back out into the sun

And as the distance grows around us and the innocence dies

The security that we once knew petrifies

And so as we emerge, our eyes blinking with unease

Into a brave new world diminished by such insidious disease

We know that there will be no more days in the sun

Although each in our way attempted to be shielded

Our sanity was ultimately yielded

To the virus and the damage done

Steve Wheeler © 22 June, 2020

Image from Pixabay

This poem was first published in Ellipsis by Steve Wheeler, Wheelsong Books, 2020.