For those pastas that are smelling less than fresh…

Black Death


Black Death
Where they go they won’t return;
To the ground the houses burn.
A crow’s face to shield from death;
‘Till they breathe their final breath.
An island to store them; the tainted population.
The crippled remains of once strong nation.
It’s pointless to cry and scream and run;
You’re departed regardless when the week is done.

Credit To – ShadowLurker

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  • psychosmiley

    hmmm… i like it

  • Hamster

    Was this supposed to be profound or have really deep meaning? To me it made no sense at all.

  • The Operator

    Edgar Allan Poe-try Again!