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Oct 2015
The starless night was lit by a blood red moon.
Tendrils of fog invade the air in pursuit
Of the living dead who walk among us.
Door by door it creeps.
From every crevice it seeps.
Hungry for souls drenched in evil
Conjurers of suffering and upheaval.
The hour has come for retribution --
Iniquity will face its execution.
Gravestones tremble at the passing of the fog,
Awakening the dead from their slumber, years long.
Skeletal hands tear up the earth,
Groping for those who revel in hurt.  
Wolves howl in unison as the army of death
Marches forth to gather the wicked in bed.
Help us! Scream the vile vermin
While being dragged across the coals,  
We plead forgiveness for our sin,
Have mercy on our souls.
Deaf to their cries, the dead carry on
To bury the evil so that it may forever be gone.
The dead return to their graves at morning’s call
To sleep with the wicked once and for all.
Daniel Ospina
Written by
Daniel Ospina  Gainesville, FL
(Gainesville, FL)   
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