we trust fate,
who already has a map
for our own destiny.
whether we die today
or tomorrow, or even if
we do not die, for a
hundred years, it does
not really matter, for
it is as certain as
the break of day and
the closure of compassion.
we trust fate,
we trust God,
we trust the Creator,
we trust the Universe,
we trust Love
we trust History,
we trust the Maker,
we trust Life
we trust Death
we are nothing but
their instruments and
tools.
and so Mr. Covid,
you do not threaten me.
You too is a tool,
created by the Maker
and the Master.
we are the same.
we perish, and you perish too.
does this make any
difference at all?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
to The TRUST holder none can threaten even the MR.COvID!