The dirty little angel spread out its dirty wings,
One O’ The 4 Horsemen Of Apocalypse, Plague, gives his blessings,
The journey starts to spread and bear the beginning of new life,
Off to work is the diligent wife.

A journey of long-distance, only to be made for a day,
Such a limitation, yet her will does not sway,
Going to the dirtiest of slums and corners, just to survive,
To protect the en-route new life, she must strive

She must go to the desperation of having the blood of others,
Because she must show her love for her kind and her children, such is the role of such mothers,
Hated by all, even though it is a sacred journey of life itself,
We all built our weapons of hatred, sadly so did I myself.

The blessing of Plague spreads like wildfire through a dry wood forest,
Her love and new life laid upon gentle waters at rest,
Her life only existing for a day,
Yet her will never did sway

Such sacrifice made the angel, she flew with her wings to this trap,
Whether it be her flying or perched upon a dwelling for rest, came my clap and a slap,
One more down, 15 more to go,
Die you annoying pest mosquito.



-Mudit Saklani, Amity International School


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