Corona Poem by Al Ameen Shuaib Assayouty Ologele

My home maybe away
my love maybe at gay
My street maybe at ray
but the come at last siren
and Alarm become array.

I hide at home for death
I realise my love for fear
I know my street in blind
and the rashes that ratch
acclaim the soil,
where we bury the souls
of victims arraigned,
where we bury souls
that shakes the hands,
where we bury souls
that touches the touch,
and we bury victims that touch
the face,
Fear already fill our lands,
No more space to build a grave,
Millions of space
to build the fear,
we keep wandering and keep pestering
how I wish I've a grave I can bury our fears
but till now,
we still build more fear