Microorgasmic agent of the reaper, ther bubonic plague wielded high
Brought from afar to the western Europe,
A sickness worse than any war, seal yourself away
Run as fast as you can
Still it shall end the day, no matter how fast you ran
Pest cometh Invisible, spreading ever on,
Until all is quiet and dead
The great tool of death, the raiser of mundane hell
Coming without warning in great speed
A travelling bacteria, a death vagabond
Seeing no difference between rich an poor,
Leaving nothing but the stench of rot