Echoes in my Dreams

Whisps of promised help
puff on the breeze
of viral infused breath
as the screeching cries
of the cremated ill
haunt my restless dreams.
Look out! My steps
tread their restless haunts
as breath deprived shades
wander over desolate streets.
Echoes of the abolished
reverberate in hollow speech,
and dead tired eyes,
of the medically traumatized...
....and death waits in
beds of the abandoned....
as scenarios that tabulate
life and death choices
morph from dark probabilities
into grimly stark reality.