Corona virus,
Earth has given you a vineyard,
And you have planted your seeds,
And we have watered them merrily.
Now, the tree is ripe,
And harvest time is due,
We all have gathered,
To receive from your tree.
But ironically,
We are reaping sorrows,
Hardship, untold torment,
Misery, death and dismay.
Oh!, Corona your fruits are bitter,
Come uproot them from our planet.