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It is a small world; One door in and one window out One hiss in China—a thousand mountains in Italy crumbles Like a biscuit in the mouth of Death. The World is on its knees Pleading forgiveness for sins that had been long forgotten Dogs are mourning their masters And cats are no longer to be seen in the corridors of their owners. Love is no longer physical - For there are more deaths in hugs and handshakes. Men, now falling like dried leaves Singing along songs that are to be sung in unmarked graves Who is to be blamed for this unexpected fury— For this spell on mankind? Banks are now morgues Churches are now empty and Adhan is called in silence Oh, what grief! “Close your door,” they say, But which doors are the homeless going to close?