Hunger digs deep within;
parched skin clings to my ribs
so tight and taught with
the plague of famine.
That skin hued festered red
and boiled in the acrid air as
I walk and lurch, listing with
the plague of pestilence.
In my mind a crash of wrath,
helpless witness to this violence I
willingly impart, clutched by
the plague of war.
A sneaking, snaking whisper
of a thousand shadows creeps forth,
finally; the plague of death,
horseman of my apocalypse.