Lines Written In A Time Of Modern Epidemic (Poetry)

Night — and coughs come wheezing through thin walls
projected like some chorus pain has scored
to link the darkness — daisychain its ills
in rasping rhyme repeating one raw chord.

The fever’s trapped invisible as sound
permeating less-than-solid brick
the hearer shudders loathe to listen more
to voices strained to such a desperate pitch.

Each warning note strikes chill into the heart
the harbinger of plague — Death’s barking knell
curdles breath — disrupts the dreadful air
with strangled arias that croak farewell.

Night stretches long and sleepless in its theme
while Misery coughs up and down her scales
the oratorio some Gothic dream
of suffering where steadfastness prevails.