From 2020 To 2050

I feel so weak for my body has begun to cede. All those around me have lost hope and this compels my heart to sink deeper into melancholy. Who would want to let go of life at the age of 48? The only thing that is making me hope against hope is that there is plenty of fish in the sea. Alas, how does that mean that my brain shouldn't cease from counting blessings?

It's been years since COVID disappeared yet its memories still prevail. If I could survive that, why can't I survive this? Almost thirty years have faded away, but the pain still persists. Why did God give me a weak heart? Does a weak heart mean that I succumb to this illness and 'donate' my life to the demons? Have Grim Reapers come to take me? Is It the affliction of the suffering that makes me feel so? 

After COVID, the world hasn't had a sigh of relief. I feel sapped and drained of all the deaths I have seen. A couple of days ago, a young chirpy girl who asked me for an apple some time back at the factory passed away. She was beside me and her talking and tweeting made my despondency wither. Why did God do this to her? It wasn't her time to go then why did she part with me? Is God seeking revenge on us?

 

There is a convulsion of gloom that starts from my feet and takes a halt on my knee. It gives me immense pain on the knee but now I know how to bear with it. My legs go numb and then it makes its way to the torso. This is when I begin to break apart. My body feels nothing, not even pain. Is my end near? I seek forgiveness for our sins- humanity's misdemeanor. Our deeds made us fall from grace. We robbed Mother Nature of whatever it gave us and when it was left with nothing to give us, it shattered all of us. Was this revenge justified? Certainly. 

Is it likely to get better? Certainly not. As I pave my way to God, I get answers to all my questions. If humankind doesn't know how to stop, then it should accept the plight of the world. Almost thirty years ago, a pandemic shook the world, and the world today is a ball of Disease. The tomorrow is even worse, for the might of Mother Nature spares not a soul. The disease is just an Esplanade to God, albeit, what makes it painful is our crimes.