Mask Of The Red Death

Sickness born with life

She is a careful and patient shadow

Man's faithful enemy

Unceasingly transformed, rebaptized

Behind a different mask

I know it's always the same face,

Always the same eyes greedy for agony

Always the same compassionate ears

Listening to our moans,

To our Heartbeats

Passive and disinterested

Like an infidel wife

This cold and wet mouth

Will give us the very last kiss

Death is red,

For those who experience her torments

Bound to death like a daughter to her mother

She gives her mass graves overflowing

Of sketched life, of projects and hopes

What's good to see her so active

Abandoned, in the arms of another plague

Humanity slowly disappears

Someone prays, some others cry

What's good to see her so active