If Plagues Were Wolves

''I said I started writing poetry, but that I wouldn't be able to write anything long like they use to. I need to contradict myself moreUser:Serprex 22:24, February 25, 2011 (UTC) Sniffle sniffle is how it starts Achoo achoo is how it smarts Cart the bodies, row by row Reaped, and so we sow Babes are born with the disease Cows give milk more sour than cheese

No man is island All men are dying to die Who is immune?

We want blood Everyone is changing Ravenous all night Everyone is dying Where is heaven? Only God knows Lonesome for someone Fuck the world

Walk by night Sleep by day Lose every fight Dead by May

Some go out to find doctors Some stay in to die by a fire Some get blamed with a pyre Some still work their tractor

We pray every night, that someone else is immune That someone else won't cry to the moon That someone else might cure us soon

Might this barren land bear snow? Is there no news bearing west? We reap nothing of what we sow So half ran east, and a quarter took eternal rest The other quarter? Bore north I've been their unsuspected guest When they tary, I drive them forth I've elected them to my quest I've got until next month's fourth The fifth is either my triumph, or my funeral If they prove hardier than their bravery, it'll be my triumph They're certainly brave; they'll only lose by force My intent are my respite; for now my deeds are only viral By the load, humph