Virus Of Man Poem by Kriss Bailey

And now it has happened
I am now the creature
Which I solely detest,
This is no work of plague
But the virus that creeps this land
Clutching to all, leaving for none,
I feel its pus sticking to my lungs,
Its wretched fingers clutching my heart
My very soul, stolen, beaten left for dead.

I cry no more,
But it grabs still,
I fear not but this creature,
For this creature is my own
Weak willed,
Its own soul dead,
Its very life a sin,

Mother of trees,
Do as you please,
Arcing death reap this land,
Smash its home,
Destroy its dreams
Kill the virus,
The virus called Man.