The light which skylight glass admits
Be grey and dour as such the day commits
While just as dim our life in quarantine submits
Then random seem the ones for whom disease remits
Be grey and dour as such the day commits
While just as dim our life in quarantine submits
Then random seem the ones for whom disease remits
Their darkest hour
To bed confined
For none the power
To stall the march of death’s decline
And so alone
Souls pass away
While not a hand
Is offered they
But latex glove
The touch at end of earthly stay
