As a rot to rape the spring sown seed
A plague sprang forth of his tracks
Churns ran red when cows milked blood
And famine cracked poor backs
Who would hear a lament sad
Under the bright blue sky
That’s sung in hovels dark and low
With eyes too weak to cry
But horror be the nightfall’s gloom
For the man upon the road
When moon doth laugh at worthless lives
Twice hard for all promise showed
Empty stare upon his face
Nine fathoms deep
He set upon the road again
On ground that bears no seed
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