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Mission Accomplished

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
We dance, mutate and celebrate: another perfect host. 
The old make easy prey, we watch them gasp
and slip away.  And our kind are not averse 

to the odd doctor or nurse, regardless of their ages.   
But while the populace weeps and rages,  the death
toll turns, a thousand pages .We catch the young
while on the run , target bathers soaking sun. 

Here’s to a babe in its mother’s arms. He takes no solace
from our charms. We proliferate in lungs, leak bodily 
juices, giving neither apology nor excuses. It’s strike, 
strike and strike again. Attacking gaps in mask, gown
or gloves, we seize our chances. 

The target’s cells weep blood, and slowly die.
Our deadly dancers sigh and shrivel, too. But that’s what
 we were born to do. Others soon will  take
our places, embracing all the creeds and  races.

Decima Wraxall

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 3/6/2024 8:29:00 PM
Thanks for sharing this... exposing your thoughts through your unique poetic style. Meanwhile, I greet you with the love of the Lord, expressed by John 3:16 of the Bible, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Be blessed.
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Decima Wraxall
Date: 3/6/2024 8:51:00 PM
Thanks, Beata. God bless you, too!

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry