Pestilential Mists - Abhorrence

From suppurating sores

From bloated bodies

From bubonic blisters

The stench is slowly rising !

It’s floating in the air

The reek of decay and death

As the infested bodies fester

Exuding this rotten breath

The air is warm and stale

With premature maturation

All medicines will fail

You can’t stop the suppuration

Black Death, the pestilential mists

The disease is rapidly spreading

The Curse of god on the sinners

The Plague won’t ask for a cause