Death in the Night
Death in black robes stalks the night,
The sharp smell of herbs drowns the senses.
Children run, masked with fright,
A beaked mask in wrongness and in right.
Licking flames cast a ghastly shadow
Of writhing bodies stacked in heaps.
A lonely candle burns in the window.
The graves where they lie are shallow.
Beat back the dying with a battered cane,
Feel the last breath in the cold air.
No one could have seen their bane
Or Death pouring across the land like rain.
Hear a cry, sob, or shriek
Moving through a silent village.
This world belongs not to the meek
But all lines of men grow weak.
Bleed the blood for cleansing tears,
Sweat the body to purify.
Hold onto God in hearts of fear.
Death's doctor is drawing near.
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