Egotistical Narcissists

Everything seems calm
It's just a discomfort
Routine remains boring (repetitive)
People look at each other strangely
The media

Bodies on the sidewalks
Empty wakes
Masked children
Natural entertainment

Some creator (of the virus)
Smiles proudly
Or cries of regret
Or hides foolishness

Discomfort bothers you
Everyone around feels the same
It can't be just a malaise
What did I do to deserve this?

Six hundred seventy-one thousand lost lives

I can't breathe
It's getting dark
It's so cold, I hear voices
The plague slowly climbs my bed!
Is it the end?!