Dirge

This is Dirge - she's a nightmare of sorts. Say hullo Dirge.

=racking cough=

Dirge introduced herself to me the other day as I was playing with my paints, she then sat me down (though I had plenty else to work upon) and asked me to write this out for her:

Dirge's Alphablight
A is for Affliction, the bubble of breath,
B is the Battleground, corpse littered with death,
C is Contagion, D for Disease,
E, an epidemic that is brought on by fleas

F bringeth Famine, and G with its Grief
H is humidity that has no relief.
I is the Itching, with its scabbing stains,
J is for Jealousy, a rot in the brains.

K cries in Keening, L is lepers despair
M is the plague moon, with malignant stare
N is Necrosis, the sloughing of flesh,
O brings bad omens that start it afresh.

P is the Pestilance, death comes as you bloat,
Q follows Quincey with its closing of throat.
R is the Ravings of a rabid stray
S is the Stench as it withers away

T bringeth Tetnis and the locking of jaws
U is Ulceration with its festering sores
V for the Vermin that crawl in the night,
Q with the wasting that steals and mans might.


X for the cross roads, with gibbet in place
Y is Youth blighted and withered from grace.
Z was our Zenith, the best is long past
And here the tale ends, we are done now, at last.


Dirge, bless her little fetid socks, and the above mangled poetry are both (c) to me. I shall bite anyone who touches her (provided they haven't contracted gangrene or worse from the contact)