We are soldiers

Fighting a war of attrition

Against things that we cannot even see.

Our wars we wage

Within and without

The walls and premises of the hospital.

We quake in our boots,

In our protective equipment,

But we see you, and we pretend

That we have cast away fear,

Because neither fear nor indecision

Have a place in a warzone.

But oh, we fear so much

That we will be struck down by the enemy

That we will spread it to others

To our families, our friends,

To the other people we see

And that fear lingers, day by day by day.

We were young once,

Reading about epidemics and thinking

"Such is the way of the past,

Hopefully history that will never come to pass"

And yet...

Alas, and alack, here comes the monster once more.

We are soldiers, your frontliners

We take to the battlefield

What weapons we have fully drawn,

With sharp minds in weary bodies,

Our nerves shaken but unbroken,

Shabby or inadequate our armor may be.

We fight to hold the line,

With hope that we will not fall

But if we do, we still hold out hope

That this, too, shall come to pass

That this war will also end,

And that it will never come around again.

--

This is a year old. Things haven't changed at all. WHEN WILL MIZ RONA END.