Epidemics, Labs Are Dangerous Weapons Poem by Mohammad Yousef

By Mohammad Yousef

In the heart of sterile chambers,
where glass meets steel,
like whispers of a forgotten past,
the hum of machinery sings,
a lullaby of creation and destruction,
each beaker a promise,
each vial a potential storm.

Epidemics, lurking in the shadows,
wrapped in the guise of innocuous strains,
dancing between our cells,
an unseen ballet of chaos,
a virus gifted with purpose,
its tiny crown gleaming,
a monarch in a world unprepared.

In labs, minds sharpened like scalpels,
search for answers,
the quest for knowledge,
but knowledge, too, is a weapon,
when wielded without wisdom,
when curiosity becomes a catalyst,
and the line between cure and curse blurs.

A drop of liquid,
a careless breath,
and suddenly the world spins,
as if the air itself has conspired,
to carry whispers of contagion,
to seep into the veins of the unknowing,
to unravel the fabric of society.

In the grip of fear,
we watch as cities crumble,
as borders close like the pages of a book,
history rewritten in the ink of despair,
and the lab's sterile walls echo,
with the weight of what if,
what could have been,
a symphony of regret.

The scientists, once heralded as saviors,
now wear the masks of guilt,
for every experiment,
every trial,
is a gamble with fate,
a toss of dice in a game too grand,
too intricate for human hands.

What is progress,
if it leads us to the brink?
What are we building,
if the foundations are of fear?
In the silence of the lab,
amidst the clinking glass and fading light,
we ponder the nature of our creations,
and the monsters we may unleash.

Epidemics, labs,
dangerous weapons,
in the dance of science and ethics,
we must tread lightly,
for each step echoes through time,
and the future holds its breath,
awaiting our choice,
our responsibility,
to wield knowledge not as a sword,
but as a bridge,
to a world united in understanding.