Saturday, September 12, 2009


You return home after a tiring day out,
a sigh emanates from your lips.
Feel like whooping, too tired to shout,
and slowly, with a dream, sink into the couch.

The world goes silent, or perhaps you grow deaf,
and listen to the music of your soul.
A light that shines from within, fills your eyes,
and you discards the burdens of growing old.

Then the sting, that travels up the spine,
eyes flare open, bliss left behind.
A dread that throbs and burns you up,
a buzz announces terror, come to sup.

The nightmares that never ever leave,
on stormy nights, or humid dreams.
An enemy who cannot be slayed,
mock our progress, to our dismay.

They dwell in our homes, much before we do.
And linger long after we've left.
An evil so ancient that it will endure,
and outlast humanity, with contempt.

You slap your skin here, Oh another spot there!
Stop moving so fast, it isn't fair.
There's one of me, and thousands of you,
powerless in the glare of your stare.

There goes that hum again, the call of pain.
Of parting with blood we'll painfully regain.
I've tried smoke, mats and gel,
yet you soldier on, with total disdain.

I close my doors and windows are shut,
The lords outside try to burn you out.
Yet you always killed and continue to,
helpless we are, our defenses few.

Perhaps we only get our due,
for killing this world to suit our needs.
We may conquer space, land and sea,
but your creed conquers us with glee.

Through the ages, you've truly earned,
the title of being our greatest foe.
We will pray and hope for a day,
when we lay to waste, the menace of the mosquito.