Our
shattered world,
Fractured
by a cruel virus.
Riots
and races,
All
for the lack of trust.
Blue
devils kneeled down,
Our
horrified faces were masked.
Isolation
took grip of Gaea,
As
we all holed up near our chilling hearths.
A
wicked orange at the top,
And
the desperate shaking of his precarious throne.
Down
he fell,
As
all lousy leaders do.
Yet,
through it all, Elpis shined through.
Communities
became like latticework,
And
the bonds of humanity grew tighter.
Earth
became a spider web full of friendly flies.
We
all danced in a masquerade ball,
And
we all got stabbed by needles.
Those
who didn’t were shamed,
As
rightfully determined by the public.
Slowly,
creepingly,
Progress
arises, like ivy on stone.
A
rebound is inevitable,
And
reform shall follow.
These
two years have been muddled,
Obfuscated
by all of our traumas and troubles.
A
deathly black viral crown rested on Terra’s head,
And
around the globe, the plague awoke.
Now,
as Progress rises up to its apex,
Together
we crawl, in life’s perpetual race.
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