Coronavirus

Like the Virus In shadows deep, where whispers dwell, A silent force begins to swell, Infecting everything it touches, A dance of chaos, soft clutches. It drifts on air, a ghostly sigh, With every breath, it weaves and flies, A tapestry of unseen threads, A ripple here, a path it spreads. Through crowded rooms and open halls, It spreads like whispers, urgent calls, Across the streets, a silent tide, An arching wave we cannot hide. Spread over large areas, wide and vast, It weaves its way through present and past