Be mindful of the cough
Be mindful of the fever,
Dry your little tears,
Be silent, little children
For though you may be cold
And though you all may die
Do not fear, the end is near
Be happy the pain will fade,
Rest young one, Do not cry!

Disease that linger carried,
The death of a young child,
The death of a mother,
The place was quiet

Frozen are the remains that lay
Shattered broken mangled
Twisted limbs among the floor
As the rain falls over the them
The streets were left bare
The shops were cleared
The pestilence that shifts
By all that croaked or sneezed
Spreading like a gust of fire
Life be tortured till expired