January 12, 2012
By PimpY BRONZE, Millersville, Pennsylvania
PimpY BRONZE, Millersville, Pennsylvania
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Oh the misery!
Here comes the undead army.
Monsters of fame.
Zombies are their accurate name,
Trust me, this isn’t a game.
No life in their eyes.
This is their up-rise
And no, these are not lies
Some call them the living dead,
Raised from their own death bed.
Call them hellbound
When walking around
On their own freewill,
Blood will spill
When they start to kill.
Biting down on flesh
Makes them alive and refreshed.
Feeding on living brains,
It makes them look insane,
It puts the living in pain,
Something you wouldn’t call humane.
This is nothing you can disprove.
They hunt down what moves,
Humans are the walking meat.
A little snack, a little treat,
Whatever breathes- they’ll eat.
Hearing the sound of a heartbeat
Is a dead give away.
But do not fray,
Don’t start to pray,
Just go, just runaway.
Because if they bite you
Then this is adieu.
Once bitten, blood becomes infected.
Sense of mind will be neglected,
Left to a brainwashed body.
This is no a movie,
It’s something deadly.
Luckily, it is easy
To defeat them,
But the method will start mayhem.
You’ll start to see blood red.
Hitting them in the head
Will return them to the dead.
Back in their eternal bed.
But are you even brave
To put them into their grave?

The author's comments:
I love Zombies

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