A Parasitic Plague under the microscope
perplexes all the scientists.
Feeding on the greedy contact of human interaction,
one case into the next
until the fiery virus becomes exponential
in its RNA growth patterns of destruction.
Balancing out somehow
on Karma’s Scales of Nature,
as shallow graves
get piled high
when Black Death comes
riding in on his damned horse of despair.
Who does the reaper call this time?
Which Nation gets the scourge?
Quarantine the city;
shut down all the planes; cancel every flight;
we’re sitting tight
in holding patterns.
Don’t let the fever rise.
Don’t let the infected come too close.
I think she sneezed;
lock her out.
I think he coughed;
bring in the needle.
Two inch syringe-
here comes your vaccine.
Inoculate a million strong.
But who profits from the procedure?
Who gets the fat wad of cash
when Big Pharma comes marching in,
rolling out its readymade remedies?
Bio weapon spiked for the mass culling.
Immune system shut down and set to blow.
Poison in the water; radiation in the air; metal in your blood.
Now what’s the score, Daddy-O?
Dressed up in their fancy little lab coats.
So pretty in their white plastic gloves.
Strap on your heavy gas mask,
though it won’t save you- not this time.
The spreading bug goes airborne tonight,
mutating through a random evolution
and countering every move we make to resist its onslaught.
Is it of God?
Is it of Man?
Is it of Nature?
Does it matter?
When it’s on your porch steps
banging down the door,
will you be praying?
Will you be philosophizing by the hearth,
warmed by a blazing fire,
asking existential questions that get you nowhere fast?
Will you be rushing to the medicine cabinet
to slam your dose of snake oil?
Does it matter?
Will you be gagging on your own blood?
Will you be gasping for air?
Will you be dying all alone?
Or will you be spared with a saving grace?
Source