Back in 2017, before the covidious cloud descended like madness, the world might have seemed a saner and simpler place. It wasn’t. It was the same dark and dismal place it is today, a vale of tears and a land of exile, with only the same glimmers of lifegiving grace to lighten the load and enlighten the eye. In that year of 2017, Death Comes for the War Poets, a verse drama that I wrote to…