A Pause – From the People Rufus Knight

From the People

Rufus Knight Third Year

January 2020, It evolved and appeared from the unknown, It spread to a worldwide pandemic, Within two months streets are desolate, Parks, schools, theatres, cinemas, zoos, theme parks, Empty, Silence.

‘Stay at home’ is the government’s policy, Suddenly the world, the human race, in lockdown, Everyone alone, in their family groups, “bubbles”, Outside the cars make no sound, Not even a whisper.

The lockdown is hard to endure, A mass suffering as survivors lose loved ones, The hardship, like a perilous journey through the inhospitable arctic, The outside now seeming like a distant dream, We are all, the whole world, praying, Hoping, That this will soon end, That the coronavirus will be destroyed, decimated, imprisoned, Back to where it came from.

The only light in the dark shadow cast by the monster, Nature, The sound of birdsong, Robin, blackbird, wren, blue tit, great tit and starling, The freshly bloomed flowers, a carpet over the once dreary fields.

All over the news, this virus, Infection rates increase, Death rates increase, Panic, terror, The monster slowly spreading its icy claws round the Earth.

It picks off the weak, A pack of wolves hunting in the gloom, Fear engulfs the planet, The black, vast shadow grows ever stronger, A tempestuous, violent ocean of darkness flooding the planet with dread and fear. Fear as the world stands on a knife edge, Hospital wards overflow with victims.

The world stands still, Waiting, Hope, Like a blackbird calling as the sun breaks the horizon, Vibrant buds bursting with the dawn of spring, The tide is turning, Our fortress doors unlock, open, People blinking in the morning sunrise.

The world eager to embrace, Blocked by hidden barriers, Always an arm length apart, A heartbeat away.

Warm summer afternoons call to us, The gates spread wide, The crowds flood, The devil forgotten, If only briefly.

The Autumn brings evening, The wicked moon is on the rise, With her comes the rising tide.

We must hang on ‘til morning, Dawn will come and with it will come the light, The monster will lose its grip, The wolf pack will be weakened, Its prey growing stronger, The shadow growing smaller.

We will stand, We will fight, Hope – the greatest weapon, Until the monster loses grip, is defeated, And only the scar remains.

A memory, never forgotten.