The Plague Victom

Written by: Brian Terry

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.