Black Death

Death to all infected by the vile disease,
They could catch it with such ease.
All those disgusting infected rats and fleas,
Those germs could even be on your knees.

Headaches and cold symptoms plus more,
They would end up miserable and sore.
The end will come for sure,
Even for those that are poor.

The plague is hell,
Worse than a dirty prison cell.
As the church bells ring I think oh hell,
Yet another soulless shell.

Those dreadful black oozing bumps,
Even on your sore infected rump.
Pain until your heart don't pump,
Then yet another soulless shell to dump.