True to her vision,

Stimulated by her passion,

She weaves to perfection,

Reiterating her design ethic,

Blending the modern and ethnic

Shunning the distraction of color,

Ignoring the elements of popular styling,

She plays with a variety of fabrics,

Bonding them with absolute precision,

Creating an eclectic collection,

Echoing her deep conviction,

Etching her ideas in paint,

She makes a bold statement

Bringing unparalleled joy to the artist,

Though dissonant with popular opinion,
Intricate details lost on the hurried observer,
Symbolism too subtle to capture attention,
Commercially, it failed to make a connection

She treads on undeterred,
Proud of her perfect execution,
Confident she can find joy in the expression,
Knowing no other has been on her journey,
To earn the right to judge her story

Covid-19

Like the Night king, it goes on a rampage,
Gaining strength from the carnage
Its icy fingers strike down its foes,
Dancing on the mountain of its victim's woes
Turning unsuspecting observers into soldiers against their own,
It is all set to usurp the sceptre and the throne

As the shadow of death looms larger,
The spirit drains like a battery with no charger
Disguised as a friend, it gains entry,
Rendering useless the duty-bound sentry
Without humans turned into soldiers, I ponder,
Would there be a war to wager, I wonder

If to protect each other we make our mission,
Would this land us in an economic depression?
Would the invisible nemesis thrive,
Because we cannot ourselves deprive?
Our adversary will be slain one day,
Until then in human lives, the cost we pay.