Get Your Premium Membership

The Plague Victom

I look upon my love and weep No longer she does gently sleep The Black Death, she is overcome my shame; I told her here to come The Pit, an innocent glance why did she not look askance. Oh my God, the rings of roses grow. No use the bunch of posies. Bring out your dead, was the cry. Ignore the call? No use to try. Into the Pit they put my love Not with a push more of a shove. My love has gone. I am bereft In my life I’ve nothing left. They tell me, this is God’s will. Can it be? Why her for his kill? How can it be? This loving God transformed. To kill with just a nod? I will not rest, what is the proof I must declare this dreadful truth. There is no loving God, He’s dead. Satan has won, we live in dread. There is no hope, this is His cull I fear he hold us in His thrall.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 9/16/2013 5:31:00 PM
This is a good poem. Great job! There's always hope around the corner. Take it easy, man. ~ DWB
Login to Reply

Book: Reflection on the Important Things