Smoke on the wind, silence in the street
No song, no laughter, only retreat
The market’s still, the chapel full
Ash on skin, and hearts grown dull

Plague and prayer, hand in hand
Cloaked in fear across the land
Kneel and cry, for death is near
But hope still burns through pain and fear

Candles flicker by the gate
One by one, they seal their fate
Mothers weep and children fade
In the dust, their names engraved

Plague and prayer, hand in hand
Whispers rise from dying land
Some curse the sky, some light a flame
All ask why, none stay the same

A blackbird sings where silence grew
Even death must pass on through
What breaks the body stirs the soul
And makes the shattered spirit whole

Plague and prayer, in bitter song
The weak endure, the lost live on
Where sorrow reigned, the flowers bloom
Through every grave, the world resumes

And though we bled beneath the stone
We never truly died alone