Around Thirteen hundred and forty-five
In Genoa, a ship arrived
With sickly crew barely alive
Quayside the barque was ill at ease
The smell of death was on the breeze
A town brought down by rats and fleas
Bulbous from bacteria in the bite
Of the fleas put the metropole to flight
Initiating the darkest medieval fright
From Genoa like a martial plan
The plaque marched ruthless across the land
Soon to Florence and Milan
Civilization came unbound
A third of Europe could be found
Far too soon planted in the ground
The Black Death brought in its aftermath
A new human value that set the path
A society reforming millennial bath
A renaissance came to be
For learning, for arts, for industry,
The breaking of feudalism and the setting free
Of hearts and minds and the labor of men
The Disease is not how this story ends
Catastrophe allows for greatness to begin
The story is bleak but also true
Europe recovered and we will too
Perhaps to a renaissance anew
Let us not fear or worry or doubt
Let our revival be what we are about
To be better people when our plague plays out.
