The dead are gonna walk.
Be quiet dont talk.
Undead are digging there way up.
Pour some holy water in the cup.
Were so dead.
They need to be fed.
Running like the fury of hell.
Its us they can smell.
Where should we hide.
I wonder if its everyone who has died.
Cant kill what is not alive.
Id hit them with a car if i had one to drive.
O but here they are.
Well never get that far.
No they have us in a dead end.
With sticks and brooms we defend.
A drop of blood attracts them in.
The holy water doesnt affect them the least bit.
Fuck hes got me.
© Copyright 2016 Nessly305. All rights reserved.
Book / Poetry
Poem / Romance
Poem / Fantasy
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