The Triumph of Death.
A cunning virus floats throughout the air..
And there…the rich and poor are one
The Black Death is the master now,
and to this Plague
they will succumb.…
A wretched heaving mass
of bleak humanity
Finds everything in disarray.
Hot fires burn, strong ships are wrecked,
The trees are charred…
And human bones de-fleshed.
A wagon filled with skulls rides by
the living, dead and dying,
And in the midst of
Bedlam’s pandemonium,
A woman’s playing music on a Lyre,
And there …the fated King,
So dimmed by his excesses,
Can only think of reaching for his wealth,
Amongst the fallen skeletons.
Kristine Byrne. 14th May…2020
Bruegel : The Triumph of Death. A Satire 1562