Midnight Shell
Midnight Shell 
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missrebeccaann
missrebeccaann I earned a Ph.D. in misplacing car keys
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
A history poem about the plague .

"Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain" - Blue Oyster Cult

Midnight Shell

Bring out your dead with the appendages of coal, a midnight shell, for whom the bell tolls. The streets are bleak. The demise is contagious. The Black Death is nigh and nothing can save us.

The Reaper has arrived. his scythe’s in demand, with pestilence beside the right of his hand.

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