From Wuhan your viral vaunts may roam
Upon every known mortal-dotted street,
Grim trails slithering past ageless seas;
Your rogue ills shall sure antidote meet.

Though your fangs their searing soots
Sting into every hale breathing being,
Spooky spikes choking dearest shoots;
You’re slain by dim dirges widows sing.

Should every trialed temporal blade
Of science’s transient wits fall short,
Eluding man’s most discerning shield;
Orphaned cries yet jinx your cruel plot.

Your emboldened atrocities may thrive
Since tabs and jabs all floundering fail,
Our dismal fortress in this heinous war;
You’ll whine under divine numen’s nail.

All your pseudo-hyped menace’s ills
Apt to chill hopeless heart and mind,
Oh-so sordid existence-stalling stats;
Must they not faithful retribution find?

Indomitable poets’ quarantined quills
Though no crown-like affliction’s cure,
Doling pills and pints as medics may;
Shall your melancholic antics endure.




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