Risen Dead

A cycle of poems «Chasing a Werewolf»

Cold earth trembled, a chilling sound
As shadows stirred, and life unbound
The ancient slumber, broken free
Risen dead, for all to see

Eyes of embers, burning bright
Flesh of decay, bathed in night
Stumbling forth, a hungry horde
The risen dead, their voices roared

Silent graves, now open wide
Whispers of death, a spectral tide
Bones and dust, a mournful sway
The living fear, the coming day

Eyes of embers, burning bright
Flesh of decay, bathed in night
Stumbling forth, a hungry horde
The risen dead, their voices roared

No peace they find, no rest they know
Driven by hunger, a spectral flow
Through shattered streets, they wander slow
A grim reminder, the seeds they sow

Eyes of embers, burning bright
Flesh of decay, bathed in night
Stumbling forth, a hungry horde
The risen dead, their voices roared

The sun descends, a crimson stain
The risen dead, they rise again
A haunting echo, a chilling cry
Forever doomed, beneath the sky.