A Wreath of flowers
On every grave
How many? T'is hard to say
Young and old all are there
A dull black gloomy glare
That struck the earth
At a time not known
A black death that has been
And shall be again
Value of life remains no more
The darker side of man
Revealed in a nightmare
Will there be an end?
Cry the suffering souls
Will there be an end?
To this world of evil.