You twist below earths casing with unease.
Ravens caw awakens you once more with
such rasp of unholy calling.
Skeletonised featureless humanity with broken
casket worn by years of gluttonous worms and
maggots frenzy.
Weighted down with soiled crust, you excavate
within your grave, driven by the glorious call of that
murderous brood, pecking demandingly above with
such Tomb Stone drumming.
Appealing for their master to return.
Upon the midnight hour such clawing bone appears
through earthen clays that fall beside thee.
Back once more to their righteous hiding place.
The clock slowly ticking for such a time when
freedom will be your reckoning.
Eventually to bare such sight as no man would
invite to call.
Resting wearily after such rite you ****** your
caller from its lair and feast on sullen flesh and
blood as around you  feathers floating around
you in surprised cascading chase.
Not the most captivating meal but such will sustain
you until sinew repairs itself and ****** meat once
more returns to bone.  
Plenty is the time when metamorphoses completes
for  more appetising morsel.
Awakening complete it is time to delve into this new time.                                                            ­  
A future where you are once more free to feed on
living flesh.                                                           ­                                 
Once more to be Master is your calling.
Off you go into the night, off you go to have your
way and feast till Devilled hearts content.
Into nights shadows do you stride.