Fever
When sickness strikes the Land, people try to run.
But, like a shackle like a band, it has trapped and it has won.
It sweeps in at a hot hour and tries to ruin everything in its path.
With destruction it shows its power and brings its deadly rath
When you start to ache, and yellow floods your eyes,
you know you can not wait to say your last goodbyes.
But don't lose hope now, there is still life,
And fight the pain of the fevers sharp knife.
Hope is real Philadelphia, because you are now free,
from the chains of the yellow fever in 1793.
~Trinity Monks
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC
Fever
When sickness strikes the Land, people try to run.
But, like a shackle like a band, it has trapped and it has won.
It sweeps in at a hot hour and tries to ruin everything in its path.
With destruction it shows its power and brings its deadly rath
When you start to ache, and yellow floods your eyes,
you know you can not wait to say your last goodbyes.
But don't lose hope now, there is still life,
And fight the pain of the fevers sharp knife.
Hope is real Philadelphia, because you are now free,
from the chains of the yellow fever in 1793.
~Trinity Monks