Beijing,

the capital of China,

Choked with black clouds of death

Crumbling and weakened.

People buzz like bees,

Moving from place to place

Slowly dying as death wraps around their necks.

A child,

only 8 years old,

Lays in a sterile room on a sterile bed

Hacking and choking.

Here death comes from the inside.

Black clouds are there now,

They’ve come,

Forming into a long black robe and the cold curved edge of a Scythe.

She never saw it coming…

Most never do, after all death is a silent being.