As the disease swept amongst us,
We came to know Death,
Not as the cruel master of souls
That we had been lead and deluded
To think of him as.

But as a master of all and nothing,
And the bringer of release to us
Leading us to a better place.

We, those motherless wretches in the dregs of a Parisian Orphanage
Were now those gentle points of light that the mortally ill
Gazed and sighed at, as their final breathe was drawn.
We, the unwanted, the unnecessary,
Became the joyful mediators to those passing,
From Life, unto Death..
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But something went awry....
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They say that with every generation, a reluctant soul is born...
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I watched him...I pitied him...and in the end,
I interceded upon his behalf...
And he saw..
He saw..
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.            .
.         .
.  .

Such Betrayal...
Ripped from the nest of light in which we slumbered
I found myself gasping within a whirlwind
And thrust within a form that once again
Breathed air
(how vile...)
Tasted food
(how repellant...)
Tread earth
(how demeaning...)
Saw him...
(........)
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.            .
.         .
.  .

And here I stay...
My maker,
A mentor and student-
- all the same