They have no names
Their flesh is putrid
Who knows what now flows though their veins
They circle round
With such ghost like moves
And drag around their heavy chains
They howl at us
Eyes now empty stare
Tangled hair from their foetid manes
What ghosts are these?
Granite looks spell fear
I think they've emerged from the drains
Such sinful deeds
That have been tabled
Emerge now to weigh upon their brains
Image found at www.scientiasalon.wordpress.com
Yikes! What a creepy mood you've managed to evoke with your words here. And the photo you chose is a perfect fit. Someone better put the cover back on that drain....quickly!!!
ReplyDeleteYikes! What a creepy mood you've managed to evoke with your words here. And the photo you chose is a perfect fit. Someone better put the cover back on that drain....quickly!!!
ReplyDeleteDid you see me wake up this morning then ;)
ReplyDeleteWow! You know how to make my flesh creep!
ReplyDeleteYou frighten me with your words today, Old Egg!
ReplyDeleteWhirling for Good or Ill
Keith told me this would be a good place to find romantic poems! He got that wrong, the picture scared the life out of me even before I got reading!
ReplyDeleteI think we all wonder from time to time what the zombie apocalypse would look like.
ReplyDeleteOh my! What a wonderful deviation from your normal writes .. but you've pulled it off very well indeed and I send a rousing BRAVO!!
ReplyDelete