We Nailed This Word,

Isn’t it Ironic
more than a little bit absurd,
that man first creates,
then becomes the meaning
of a word.

That word being pestilence,
with all it’s horrifying fame.
Man’s good book just pretence,
claiming a devil was to blame.

To blame for all the carnage,
by murder, hunger or disease.
Causing man’s horrid inner rage,
to spill another’s blood with ease.

I say our good books incorrect,
look now at mother earth.
Then at man, a greedy gnawing insect,
a plague, destroying or consuming all
from birth.