Corona

Because of this overwhelming
majority
I am beaten

As if singly subsided I
wield
but not among you

Frankly I would admit not to
belong
but to subsist

My dear stranger I am
bewildered
but subsist in form

There is no one there
anymore
no one to grief

But this Corona takes
me
I would frankly admit

Single handedly I wield
nothing
escape with me towards Sun

Be careful around me and
my heart
caress me my dear

Finding comfort in lies
is human
but I am no longer man

This Corona took us and
shook us
now we are gone

Our epitome is remarkably
simple:
“the death cares not”

About Emil Hjort

Writer, poet and mysticist.
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