Dressed as Crows

Though patiently Death could wait,

He feels a need to conjure haste.

And famine wipes the lands of life,

So Death can seize his greedy prize.

And then from rats it came, they say,

So horrid even Hades prayed.

It mattered not if young or old,

Death arrived, demanding toll.

Men walked about, dressed as crows,

Draped upon them blackened clothes.

No body left this world alive,

But souls escaped the flaming pyre.