With virulent compulsion, the virus consumes.
The world falls to its knees.
In the wake of the slaughter, the world is dead.
Nothing is left, but decomposing corpses.

The streets are littered with lifeless bodies.
Their empty homes left cold and morose.
Birds have dropped down from the skies.
Mammals have fallen in inanimate piles.

All of the world is left bitter and empty.
This stark, useless void will never be filled.
Nothing can recover from this lifeless inaction.
The world is left depleted and still.

The lugubriosity of this arid earth,
Haunts the vacant, desolate terrain.
The towns once filled with swarming life,
Are left with nothing but the smell of death.

The plague has left no more in its wake,
Than a trail of innocuous vacuity.
With nothing left to feed its growth,
The bane of this illness has departed the earth.

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