27 July 2012
Fatal occurring epidemic.
Injecting disease.
Air and touch.
First warning: Loss of sight.
The wind carrying its diseased bite.
Spreading like wild fire.
Pestilence working hand in hand with death to conspire.
Awaiting in quarantine for a cure.
Vision becoming a blur.
A skeletons hands reaches to me,
My reaper coming to reap.
Taking my hand, walking into the deep.
Pestilence • Opuss № I