An East wind
Chills the night,
Laden with breaths of
Snow and frost.
The leaf's death rattle,
Tumbling through branches,
Mars the quiet.
The tree, with branches
Spread, stands barren
As do I.
Roaring in, from the East it came.
An ill wind, that will ever remain,
carrying a virus, no plan in mind
except the destruction of today's mankind.
Ill prepare were those left in charge
to face the attack and heavy barrage,
attacking all without reason or rage.
preying on those who were of old age.