Utgard - Pest

Wet cunt of autumn weeps
And soil bleeds the blackest blood
All the trees are dead and withered
Like a promise of a new life in young girl's womb

Once solid ground where seeds bloomed,
Turned to mud
Punctured holes, like fetid wounds
Made of rats

Failed to see the light
Behind the smoke of burning corpses
Day after day rising lamentations
For another children buried

One by one black abscesses appeared
Terrible pains twist the bodies
Soon their maturated limbs Will overpopulate the graves

The feeble flock gathered at church
With their white robes, crosses at hand
Cries of mercy for their sins
Prays to God for save them
But this plague won't left no one spared

In few days, all is ruined
No sign of life
Scattered around lies swollen piles
Vaporizing putrid stench

At next village's gate
Was tall and pale man sawn
Dressed all in black
And air around him was rotten and cold