Solidarity
Coronavirus, as all we`ll cope:
With fever, cough, shortness breath,
Zoonotic SARS-CoV, without scope:
Chaotic moments turn to death.
Bring heat or frost above the sands!
With time, thy anger passes, Lord.
It`s written yet, by golden hands
The sword of wrath, or healing word?
So nothing comes without a price
Thus, days of wrath and tears pass:
No need war, no more sacrifice;
From faith arises new hope grass.
Incense in saint reverent hands:
Love dust and sands of our lands.
Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment