Now completely out its grave
On its hands and knees it will not stay
it struggles to rise and clenches the fresh dirt in its fist
its grave determination not hard to miss
on a face that’s been dead for decades
Alive and yet lifeless the drool cascades
from a rotten mouth an eerie moan can be heard
spoken aloud by a disheveled corpse that once inhabited this earth
trying not to make a sound
desperately quiet, so as not to be found
by the denizen of dirt, this hellish sight on earth
these thoughts fly by when
all of a sudden it’s interrupted by something lumbering nearby
is it the walking dead?
or simply your imagination instead?
Perhaps all of it is a dream, and you are asleep
in your bed
you cannot remember
you are not afraid
But behind you, your grave awaits....

Grave dwellers no more
a funeral stench lingers here for sure
fingers clawing at dirt
a head squeezes out from under the mound of earth
black wiry hair skin a pale gray
venous and peeled from its decay
eyes blankly staring and lifeless
here there is no comfort except the darkness
sickening sounds uttered from its mouth
impossible as it seems
for the dead should not speak
yet its moans are loud
loud enough to startle and scare
to captivate and awe and to make one well enough aware
its body rises dirt falling all around
with an eerie purpose and no sound
the tattered and torn funeral clothes
cling loosely to its putrid bones
the yellowish sneering grin from beneath half rotted lips
opens up to reveal another spine tingling moan that you can't miss
its tombstone behind the animated corpse
makes a mockery of life of course!
somehow cheating death
again returning
for some unknown reason
a corpse not content to sit still
but to wander aimlessly until its had its fill