Passing The Baton Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

December's when on marching way,
End of the year seems not away—
The year one of the awful most
Imposed on us enormous cost,
Yet, if hope's truly eternal,
If not so logical,
Let's hope, a change in calendar
Some relief might render,
Let's hope, that little thing wriggling in dust
Is COVID's desperate dour ghost!
That, 'pon losing deadly battles before,
The mankind might have won the war.
Yet, naught happens as midnight moment strikes,
Year's ticking instants have likes nor dislikes,
Nature believers in no such division of time,
It has its own never-known rhyme.
Nor does the virus care,
No matter it might flare
Irrespective of change of year...
Sorry, COVID's end seems no near.

The coming year as well to flatten,
Maybe it just passes its baton.

Tongue-in-cheek 17.12.2020