Ghost Town
I saw one with the placidness of death
A necropolis pummelled, with mallets of sorrow,
By the brutishness of Silence and numbed by the
Prickly shafts of premature grey hair, sickly and odorous.
Even Tokyo, normally awash with people and pets,
Pots and pans, observed the rules of siesta.
I witnessed it —a virus so vicious —!
A plague that humbled one and all —
Troglodytes we!
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