Where The Virus Ends Poem by Rhonda Baker

A dark virus, when will it end?
I pray in darkness today again
Across this world it keeps seeping
A gray cloud that leaves us weeping
Like an infested wound, my heart pains
I look to a future where very little remains
In quarantine I dream alone
On good days through woods I sometimes roam
Beneath a sky of falling snow
With a face covered and fears in tow
I turn my back to fierce winds that blow
Watching as the winds push and the trees bow
As the clouds part, down spills the light
And to this soul it gives new sight
As buds emerge from the trees new and bright
In this light I feel the hearts of thousands of souls gone by
Gone too soon, to the heavens they fly
Sorrow, like a virus just grows and grows
Where the sadness ends...nobody knows