In dire times
we look to those who hold power:
Kings and Queens that long leave us bereft.
Cowering thieves that steal the silver
from those who claim good tidings and tranquility.
in the crevices of the masonry;
What death has been brought here?
It does away
with the faithful,
young, old, sickly, and power driven;
leaving eye-sight red,
skin singed like ash -
Do not fear thy neighbors cough
for it be too late if you had heard;
fear the mask marked by plague,
walking amongst those who once passed.
Taking the guise of good nature
It grasps life with cold fingers like twine -
and there be not left but twine.
in the dark,
there is no warmth;
cold and calloused It leaves;
washing through the cities
as if all now was
What now of said power of Majesty's grace?
There be no more cowards
to thieve in their place.
© Shane Leigh
I love all things medieval and Middle Age (mythology, the good, the bad, the gruesome); so, when I have inklings to write about them, I cannot stop myself from doing so (: