They rise from the grave, with an insatiable need,
To feed on the living, with eternal greed.
Their eyes glow red, with a hunger that never fades,
As they stalk their prey, in the moonlit shades.
Their skin is cold, their breath an icy fog,
As they shamble forward, like a macabre slog.
Their limbs are stiff, yet their strength is immense,
As they reach out, with fingers that lack any sense.
Their mouths gape wide, revealing rotting teeth,
As they lurch forward, with a relentless heave.
Their hunger drives them, to seek out the living,
To feast on flesh, with a ceaseless giving.
They are the undead, cursed to roam the earth,
In search of sustenance, of any worth.
Their hunger never fades, their thirst never sated,
As they seek out prey, never to be abated.
So beware the undead, with their unending thirst,
For they will come for you, with a hunger that’s cursed.
And when they find you, with nowhere to hide,
You’ll know the true meaning, of an eternal divide.
