I am sick.
This body breaks again and again,
not what it once was,
not what it should be.
But my sickness is not mine alone,
it belongs to a world poisoned and bleeding.
How could I not be sick
when everything around me ails?
Yet the strangest thing,
the world collapses,
and still we pretend we are fine,
as if the fever in our bones
is only illusioned warmth.
I am sick.
But those in power let
their medicine cabinets locked,
whispering delusions, calling to action while still sitting in comfy sofas.
I will heal only when the world heals.
When justice rises,
when the soul of humanity is restored.
Do not pity me.
What I ask for is awakening,
of our slumbered souls,
Open your eyes,
See that we are all infected.
Search for the cure.
Stop aiding venom to the already bruising wound.
NAME : Zahratur R.
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