October came in Oran

October came in Oran
And the sun was beating down
Doctor Rieux was working hard
In the plague-ridden town

Orthan’s son had fallen ill
And went into quarantine
Mother and father stood bedside
The plague was now extreme

The little boy lay prostrate
His mother’s face was pale
A hander kerchief across her mouth
The boy was looking frail

You must get your things together
You know how these things are
We’ll take him to the hospital
It isn’t very far

The boy had no resistance
His limps were clogged with pain
Obviously, it was a losing fight
The plague it must be tamed

They took him the concoction
The first test case they’d done
To see if the serum
Would put it on the run

The notaries were observing
The serum under trial
They sat by his bedside
With the serums vial

Now the night came falling
The boy gritted his teeth
The observers sat there hopeful
Hanging by their belief

The boy went into spasms
The tremors took a hold
Through the night in agonies
His body getting cold

Until every bit of strength was gone
But still, the boy fought back
But the storm-wind of the fevers
Gave the boy no slack

Then came a lull
The fever seemed to recede
Had the serum done its work
Did the plague ow leave

The fiery wave of death returned
The boy curled up and cried
He tossed his blankets from him
And closed his eyes and died

His suffering now over
The doctor bowed his head
The priest gave a sermon
The little boy lay dead

Condensed from Part 4, book 3, of the Plague a novel by Albert Camus

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances. View all posts by blackbird212012