Disease and Disfigurement
Rusty-red blotches marred a once-handsome face
The grim specter of disease haunted his harrowed face
I turned away in disgust at what he'd become
Pus-filled savages, living lepers, they wanted me to eat their disease
The germs ate their flesh, leaving just enough for them to live
The disease spread quickly, reducing the internal organs to mush
A pulpy red paste poured from every orifice
The wound was raw, infected, oozing with putrescent disease
Open sores covered the mewling wretch from head to toe
The disease robbed them of their humanity, leaving only monsters behind
The creature drooled disease and its bite was the plague
There were some things that could not be cured
Greasy hands crawling with disease slid over my naked body
The infection shot up her spine into her brain where it festered and grew
The boil burst, splashing blood and pus in a reeking shower
Festering scabs and dirty minds reached out of the darkness
To say she looked ill was an understatement
The hollows of her cheeks were purple with fatigue and something far worse festered under the skin
The fever burned into his brain
His brain bubbled with disease, dancing with microscopic madness
It was a plague of pus, a storm of sores for which there was no cure
The creep's shuffling feet and reedy cough made me sick
The swelling grew until I could barely move
His red-rimmed eyes burned with the madness of the plague
The needle punctured the skin and filled her with every horror known to man
A disgusting yellow fluid leaked from his eyes and nose
The whip welts were angry pink lines against her otherwise perfect skin
Dozens of skin grafts left him looking like a human jigsaw puzzle
His acne scars ran so deep, they were like moon craters an astronaut could fall in and die
His spit sprayed, germs squirting into my mouth with every shout
A million microbes lurked in every inch of that dripping orifice
The twisted beggar pawed at me with dirty hands and roving eyes
He picked at his scabs and reached for my sandwich
He scratched at the open sore on his neck, drawing blood
Burst blisters crawled across his lips like ants to a picnic
Putrid hearts propelled crooked limbs in a mad rush to infect me
The freak crept closer, dragging his heavy clubfoot behind him
He shook the scarred stump of his wrist at me in warning
His body was a crusted ruin of picked scabs and yellow pus
Bloodshot eyes peered dully from his ravaged face
Withered and bruised by burst veins, her skin was patchwork horror
He longed to put his disease into her and watch her die