The Battle.

Photo by Ricardo Cruz 

I did not want to write a poem about Covid-19, but felt the urge. Comparison to battles of the old felt absolutely natural to me.


Those eyes, so many different eyes.

Empty streets of mighty cities,
Lay silent,
Under siege by countless armies,
Invisible to the naked eye.

Inside the dancing orange flames,
We toss the habits that we’ve built.
We broke those marble bridges,
Interaction of our species.

Those eyes,
So many different eyes.
They look at me through all the angles,
Speaking language of the soul.

We pay tribute to the brave,
Who donned a green cape,
Pushed by the promise that they’ve made,
To help, protect, and save.

This battle has taken many souls,
Affected so much more.
Like fabled combat with the dragon,
With fire burning out of lungs.
We pierced its heart with a metal spear,
And cut its head in many pieces.

Not much has changed since the days of old.
That spirit shines so ever bright,
Expanding light to darkest corners,
Of our shared castle.

I believe,

That this eternal light of ours,
Will defeat this foe,
That slowly crept within our walls.

Let’s kill this dragon.

Please let me know what you think of the poem on Twitter @FischerVladimir

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