Self-isolation

As I watch from my tower,

a world crumbling at the hands

of an enemy that no one can see,

I gaze from my balcony and wonder…

Is this why I am alone, so high up?

Where no one can touch me,

or hurt me or see me.

I am safe

while everyone else scrambles

to fill their homes with perishables

that they know will not last,

to stop their children from leaving

while they terrorise them with their fear,

to pillage and raid each store

in preparation to avoid others.

But in doing so,

all they do is for nought

because they are exposing themselves

to the enemy.

They can’t grasp that this enemy

has no face,

but suddenly every neighbour, friend or foe

is dubbed a danger;

has no voice,

but every tremor of a person’s chest

as they expel discomfort

is a call for death,

has no preference,

but your preparation will be your salvation,

were it not for your fear

which made you reckless.

From a distance, in my ivory tower,

I watch the whole world burn.

Though everyone thinks I am a damsel,

I think I’m the one with all the power.