| » Poem: Spirits Rising From Dead Bodies |
Spirits Rising From Dead Bodies
written by DarkAngelBlood09:33 PM 6/9/04In the night we gallavant and run and play along. We roam the streets aimlessly looking for what once was. We are inhuman when the Great Moon rises. When it falls, we are dust. Just the dirt under your shoes and the dust in the cracks. We become nothing. Stepped on daily by others, eaten as morsels. But when night falls, we regain ourselves again and our stengths. We vow to weaken the living and our brothers, the dead, help too. Our vengeance against them is far too great. We plot revenge in every place and in the sickest ways. We command some humans to do the job for us. We visit them in their dreams and describe exactly what to do. They become murderers or serial killers, the ones on t.v. You know what I'm saying, this isn't a game we're playing. It's real, you don't need to believe or think about it. Just watch what happens.
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