Virus

• Tomas Vana, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2020

The embodiment of a demon,
striking swiftly and silently like a sharp iron blade
A path it carves out along the terrain,
Meticulously, it creates its plan of desolation
Eventually, the true terror begins
it is truly born in the heart of civilisation;
Emanating with a cold darkness;
we lose trust in ourselves and point the blame;
whilst we run amok, unaware of the true danger
We are stripped of our only defence;
while the enemy stays calm and cunning
Before long, we turn sane, once again;
taking on a great wisdom; a sense
We seek to find a cure, a weapon,
and once we’ve found it . . .
Our ordeal is over.