Covid Mary

 

This world is made of razorblades and bile

Where every step is dangerous to tread

Bloody footprints stretch out mile after mile

Leading to the bone mansions of the dead

They chew on rotting meat and bitter wine

And breath the fetid air of charnel house

The graveyards filled with beggars is a sign

Of every corrupt moral they espouse

In darkened rooms they plot their evil ways

The poor and needy grist before the mill

The prophets weep and preach of end of days

The jackals howl and move in for the kill

Amid the chaos, confusion and doubt

Covid Mary decides she’s going out