The Black Death

December 14, 2011
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Thump, bang, crash
The bodies fall
The sin has come
And consumes all
The black carriers scurry
Through the night
Like a Grim's pet
They snicker in delight
Sinners wil fall
Is the message sent
Untill each pope falls
This cant be what god has meant
They know our bodies
Leave us holy
Yet wrought
Tis, ailed, diseased
Numbers rise and never drop
Not a soul left behind
Only bodies left behind
The death bel rings
They rot like a rot
And the boils boil over
And they decay as they lay
Not a soul left to feel the sorrow
No one to feel an ounce of dreadful dismay





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