The Concrete House

A man of great power on his great throne

That made peasants kneel before his greatness,

He smiled to his people, to each his own

As he accumulated his riches.

His children were plenty

His own Queen, a gem,

And his honor limitless...

Then the illness.

O' torture the money all spent

Of "Plague Doctors" Concoctions'

As the people then went

To the Concrete House,

A final rest for the wary

And a visit from the curious.

O' how they were furious

From a curse now so scary.

Yet in light of events

The King's daughter did marry

A finer man than himself

But alas, yet a week

He too laid by shelf

With his new wife in her blouse

And they both could now rest

In their own Concrete House.

The Queen was now grieving

Fearing fate had it's way

And the town would soon burn,

If they were to stay.

But the King said "Don't fret

My dear loving wife, Fear not for this illness

And all of it's strife."

And she took a deep sigh,

As she packed all her bags,

She kissed her husband one last time

As to say her goodbye.

She walked out silent

As small as a mouse,

And unbeknownst to her

She entered her own Concrete House.

And dawn approached again,

The King on his own knees

His beautiful wife, devastated

By this most foul disease

Didn't get out as far as the street.

And the man cried, asking for pleas

But the whole town was gone,

All except him.