Pathogens Poem by Haruna Garba

Pathogens
Life denied the eyes
Mystery alone revealed to glasses
Diehard devils to the soul
I pity their hunts
Innocent harts as they are
You see the dense thinning out
I pity their harts
Innocuous hunts as they are
You see the sputum draining them
I pity their prey
Ingenuous quarries as they are
You see the discharge maiming them
I pity every prey and every hart
For flies to have air-symbol wings
It renders naught every wish to feel at ease