A new era. A pandemic and a war.

Civilisation didn’t come too far.

Mother for her children – hear her

cry as she sings them to sleep,

scared for their safety.

Father for his children – watch him

stay strong despite all odds,

scared for life.

Mourning for the dead…

We are all related

someway or the other,

flesh of flesh fighting for ego

– not their own.

Politics of politicians, deathly March.

President-Tzar, avenges wounded pride.

Cries of people, like music to his ears

amidst desolation he stands

glorious upon our fears and tears.

If the world ends, what of pride?

What of ego? What of politics

if there is no future for a new bloom?

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