a poem detailing the horrors of the lead toomb
|NEW PROMPT: Speaking of England, archaeologists recently found a 14th-century stone coffin inside of which was... another coffin, this one made of lead. Now they want to open the lead coffin. Clearly, these archaeologists don't watch movies or Doctor Who, or they'd know better. So to get to the point, the prompt is: What evil do these poor, unwitting archaeologists unleash on an unsuspecting world as they break the seal on the lead coffin?
Here's a link to the actual story: http://www.leicestermercury.co.uk/Richard-III-dig-inside-coffin-lead-coffin/stor...
THE EVIL IN THE SEALED LEAD TOOMB
T’was late at night in chill of spring that my bad lady died;
And in her tomb, for spite I placed her live, wee child, inside!
That poor wee thing, so sick and weak, could not have been my son;
I’m forced to think that I was not her only loving one!
My grief over her sad death grew and made me act amiss;
I threw the child in tomb; there was no one to know to diss
her wanton act, so sneaky and so foul, to make a babe!
Was hidden thus; for that I chose a bad, uncertain grave.
Revenge for her loose, cheating act, it made me nearly mad.
I was so angry that I all but forgot to be sad.
But treated her young son to a fate worse than death itself!
And buried him where his weak cries could not save him his health.