The End of Pandemic
When this silence will be over
poets will compensate
till then words depart
love needs a pause
Whatever lost meanwhile
is kept in mind’s microchip
but bodies went to graveyards
memory is a dug-up hole
beeping monitors rest, comes another.
Cities are chosen
who said they are unreal
skyscrapers stand arrogantly
in squares pigeons congregate
picking food humbly
from a distance gods watch
they have not stopped breeding
we are not short of myths
the written word will return
ears are on strike, eyes watchful
the end is certainly open-ended.