Neurotoxina's Clan

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 peasants,
from nobility,
from those who claim good tidings and tranquility.

It awaits,
lurking -
patient -
in the crevices of the masonry;
What death has been brought here?
What suffering?
What pain?

It does away
with the faithful,
the forgiving,
the forgiven;
young, old, sickly, and power driven;
leaving eye-sight red,
skin singed like ash -
Burned.

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 steals,
It grasps life with cold fingers like twine -
and there be not left but twine.

Then there,
in the dark,
there is no warmth;
cold and calloused It leaves;
washing through the cities
as if all now was
Cleansed.

What now of said power of Majesty's grace?
There be no more cowards
to thieve in their place.

(Leaving FR. Goodbye)