Bring out your Dead!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem I had to write for my english class about the Black Death. My english teacher liked it so much that she asked if it would be ok if she made copies of it so she could give a framed version to her parents, and make one for herself. So as a warning to all, poetry from the middle ages was very original. Usually it was very lengthy, but I did not have the time to write an intensely long poem at the time. There are supposed to be weird rhythms and feel to the poems. Back then, they didn't have as much style or feel for art and writing. Anyone who could write, could only write a little, basically. I mean, c'mon, it was the Dark Ages. Why do you think they call it that? anyway, enjoyy:)

Submitted: May 25, 2011

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Submitted: May 25, 2011

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Cover me, cover me,
From head to toe,
In a bloody blackened sea.
Screaming to the name of He,
Who put this curse upon thee,
That wither and tremble into dust,
Dying slowly because they must,
Pay for our outrageous sin,
A divine punishment through our skin.
Will we go to the bottomless pit?
Where hot red fires are always lit?
Please forgive us,
This I plead,
Do not give us as feed,
To the one with gnashing teeth
And where darkness be beneath.
For we sing our songs
And say our prayers,
So why fill us with these scares?
Of death around every corner
And tears for every mourner?
Look at us as we die,
Thrown to the burial pit to lie,
And rot until our flesh is no more,
Counting bones over twenty score.
Bring out the dead! Bring out the dead!
That’s all I hear, that’s all that’s said.
Except the whimpering and moaning,
And the black crow always crowing.
Bleeding, bleeding, from their wounds,
And put onto the dead platoons.
For gone is he,
And gone is she,
Disappeared from this world of you and me,
Woe is me,
Woe is He,
Who put this curse upon thee.
What shall we do?
What shall we be?
As we pay the price to He.
Bring out your dead, bring out your dead!


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