Mask of the Red Death

Sickness born with life
 She is careful and patient shadow
 Man's faithful enemy
 Unceasingly transformed, rebaptized
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 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
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 Passive and disinterested
 Like an infidel wife
 This cold and wet mouth
 Will give us the very last kiss
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 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
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 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.