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