Earning our living we went lands near, far,
Masters, slaves all alike life we enjoyed;
Then came pandemic – poison in nectar,
Abandoned by masters, all joy destroyed.

Migrate! No commuters; we got perplexed,
Every small automobile we got filled;
Like chickens in little coops, we journeyed,
Reaching home was the sole aim we possessed.

Some gave food; some shelter; some smiled plenty,
Corona, human error, seemed empty;
Humans, creatures, even shade of a tree,
All reflected His kind heart brilliantly.

God alone always shifts all harder times,
God alone ever grants us all new aims.