Pale-faced creatures lurk
In dark shadows in graveyards.
Sensing danger near
Mourners turn, then run screaming,
As tall, caped figures approach.
In burial crypts
Behind deserted mansions,
Long-dead creatures stir
And breaking free from death's chains,
Go hunting for the living.
Lurking in graveyards
Loathsome creatures lurch after,
Who had come to see the dead,
But soon will be dead themselves.
Enter an underground crypt,
Where bat-winged monsters
Sleep the sleep of the undead,
But rise again at midnight.
Loathsome creatures lurk
Inside an underground crypt,
To come visiting loved ones,
Who died mysteriously.
In the lonely night
Bat-winged creatures drawing near,
As innocents go by
Unaware that winged horrors,
Are swooping down toward them.
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia
© Copyright 2017 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.
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