The known world died, made sick with Spanish Flu.
Flu made War look clumsy at dealing Death.
The Dead piled for the corpse cart to come through.
Trash stacked with kin who’d expelled their last breath.
What masters passed in those tens of millions?
Could we’ve faster mastered tech and science?
Might we’ve lost heroes that matched our villains?
Could the good have formed a grand alliance?
They say a forest without any fires
is a place of Death that doesn’t know it yet.
Disease isn’t just some fast-track to the pyre;
it’s a force of nature; an unpayable debt.