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THE BLACK DEATH Many, many years ago, a deadly curse, the fiercest foe, came to Europe, with its hate, and cut its people, sharp as slate. Of all its victims, a third would die, their blood be spilt, by blackened skies. With little food, the weak before, would weaken still, forever more. The rich and power, their debts denied, would shun the curse, and all but hide. The sick and dead, a laughing joke, their pain a pleasure, their deaths a hoax. The High would say, 'Escape the death,' throw stones at witches, deformed and left. Demented be, the rich grew cold, to you they'd blame, for things untold. The holy Church, looked to for help, the Sacred Lamb, brought pain he dealt. The people now, rebelled against, each holy priest, and recompensed. To flee the wrath, of Satan's claim, disciples fled, their faith here slain. To promise thee, of single cures, could not fulfill, their slashing burns. Sent down from God, this curse is said, for sins unpaid, for living dead. From love to hate, the peoples' hearts, could not contain, their broken parts. In art they made, with passioned smoke, their burials dull, as smooth as oak. The dead were carved, with touching care, in lids of coffins, everywhere. The paintings once, so pure and kind, were now then littered, with evil minds. Their tortured souls, with thrown down hands, now painted skeletons, demons with sands. The children then, with skills of none, could not protect, themselves undone. With selfishness, and suffering plight, their parents left, into the night. The Fragile Girl, and Little Boy, withheld the state, the surrounding ploy. To each of them, the crazy sight, of long lost friends, destroyed their might. The Death did strike, as many before, and took them down, below the floor. Their family gone, their life now stole; they faded off, into the cold. When hit this blow, the Death at peak, the ways of old, fell to the deep. No trust, no love, no sweet embrace, could shield the laws, feudalism in case. It fell and broke, and took each wound; the government flew, to granite tombs. The people fought, but did not win, the fight against, the beast within.the fight against, the beast within. When groups of people, infected by Death, contracted its hate, not many were left. A few days when, each one would die, who Death did chose, to say good-bye. All in all, it made its mark, on History, Love, Sorrow, our hearts. But when came the end, there seemed to shine, a joyful beginning, so sad divine. So much was lost, so little gained, but now a new life, could come again. A lesson taught, a lesson learned, for those who wanted, for those who yearned, The Black Death came, and washed us clean, it did us a favor, still much unseen. For those who died, for those who lived, it changed the lives, it ever did. From God it came, he told us then, he taught us how… to love again. If
