Quietly Killing Poem by THEODORE MOSLEY

In the still of the day your body is awakened by unknown symptoms of I can't breathe.

You reach for the air that brings solace to your mind for comfort.

Your body goes astray; the air you breathe attacks your breathing canal.

The scandal of your interior organs seems to multiply without the interpretation of your movement.

The colony of your passage of breathing lays dormant for other invasions that corrupt your vessels of life.

Fighting for containment within your mind of decisions you create abstract decisions that seal your thoughts.

Within the conduit of your flow of blood you become weak with your process of intelligent thinking.

Gathering your mental state to optimize the confrontation of your equilibrium you surrender in blackness.

You are trapped in a organic state of an apparatus that gives you its vitals without your understanding.

Voices are flowing in your air space; your tongue is being held ransom by your trachea.

Your body is distant from your mind; your eyes are seeing beyond what you are advocating for.

The ventilator is decreasing your pattern of once what was a normal routine of your anatomy.

When the invocation of your life is talking to you, COVID-19 is quietly killing you.


Written by Theodore Mosley
February 8,2022