Young Beat Bullet

Echoes of sirens bounce from house to house
Trapped between the plywood and the plaster
Each wave of sound bites like a hungry louse
A whip itching the hand of the master
Do not trust the darkness or the quiet
For now is when the Zombies come to feast
A Monster can be caged without much fret
But nothing can hope to tame the young beast
If I can’t have my fairytale ending
Then my legend will be an explosion
The humidity begins condensing
And this town is left with a dying Sun
The sirens have faded into the night
I’ll rest for now, but tomorrow, I fight