Mortality casts its shadow jet black
at such dark times as these we’re living in.
My journey will end and I won’t come back,
probably lie on roadside, giving in.
I tried and tried to make my days brighter
to fend off the cause of this affliction.
But these dark clouds won’t let it be lighter,
erasing even my shadow depiction.
I caught this sickness when I was a kid
and it almost killed me and some others.
It’s contagious, and inside me it’s hid,
and can infect me, you and our brothers.
The virus in the news isn’t this disease.
It’s terminal hatred. Don’t succumb, please.