The Black Death

Through silent streets, the shadows creep,

A plague descends, a horror deep.

In every breath, a trace of death,

The Black Death robs us of our sleep.

Bells ring out, a mournful sound,

As grief takes root in every town.

Mothers hold their children tight,

Only to lose them by the night.

Rats scurry through the darkened lanes,

Bringing with them endless pains.

No one spared, no rank, no class,

The plague devours all who pass.

Fields grow wild, the cities weep,

As bodies pile in pits so deep.

Hope is dim, the world grows cold,

As life slips through our fingers' hold.

Yet in this dark, some light remains,

A flicker in the endless chains.

For though the Black Death's grip is tight,

It cannot quench the human fight.

Remember those who lost their breath,

In silence now, they rest in death.

Their stories linger, whispered still,

Of when the Black Death took its fill.