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‘Corona’ you ‘old gipsy man’
Crowned over humanity, victorious
Ushering Coleridge’s Angel of death - the LADY with
Bright red-lips and dead-white-skin? 
Caging people and casting spell? 

You anchored the coast of every continent,
Fueled with hasty vengeance, 
Counting the cost of all who 
Live up, 
Who, cannot give up,
In formidable quarantine. 

So sweet a name you are ‘corona’
Charm laden attire, lovely to look 
In the electronic microscope,
As if a witch has assumed a princess. 

You taught us,
Sweet touches are sour,
Breathing, spills venom,
Sneezing, sparks bio-bomb,
Kiss is an atomic explosion! 

Now people are zombies,
Or the fire spitting dragons.
Staying at a gap, they fear their kind —
Not even safe is the mother’s lap,
So altered is the human map.

Musk-dances are so real, and
Gloves are not for sub-zero chills.
You gave us a bio-chemical riddle,
And, we are still solving.

Prayer: Don’t get me please as I have written 
So sour things about you,
Don’t get us for 
We know not, how to fight
Aliens, so tiny.
Wait and don’t catch any life
Until we know you better,
Spare! Spare and spare.

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