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Mortvilar, The King Of The Bats

A sickness arose from the darkness, from the bats of the night.
They called it the Coronavirus, and it sought death across the planet.
Humans, its greatest enemies, hid in fear like turtles in their shells.
Then anger, an emotion, spilled out from the hearts of the victimized
And caused violent protests in the streets of the cities,
Whose etched glass windows once shone like diamonds
And whose towering skylines brushed the clean sky, but now they were ugly.
A tree spoke to me today and said to me, “I am frightened.”
This tree knew from the smoke in the air that her friends were dying.
The fires of anger against human beings and their destructive greed,
Were nature’s way of responding when they pillaged the earth of her resources.
Streets dirty with cigarette butts, including my own,
Were evidence that we did not keep ourselves clean as quickly
As we could consume, that there was too much work to do.
But the father of the virus, who was a monster, was the king of the bats.
He lived where shadows hid him, and he had many terrible plans.
It was true that humans were greedy and consumed the fruits of the earth
As addicted people who desired treasures much too much.
But the king of the bats, whose name was Mortvilar, despised the humans
And decided not to save them and the rest of the earth by helping them learn
About their greed and overconsumption, but to seek revenge.
His plan was to kill them.
But he would not succeed. Instead, human brings learned their lesson,
And evil Morvilar went back into the darkness and cried into his hands because he lost.

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