Garden of Poetry

 
Demon of stagnant water,
Pandora’s foulest daughter,
What twisted architect’s plot
Contrived thy devious lot?

From what rank cesspool of hell
Did such evil bud and swell?
What foul fiend’s forge formed thy sting
To bring pestilence on wing?

Mosquito, thy name is death,
The sole purpose of thy breath
To bleed and taint on thy stave
Souls to agony and grave.

When thy creator formed thee,
Did he mindfully agree
To loose a scourge of thy kind,
Or act in a fevered mind?

~ Daniel F Mitchell