The Hunters

October 31, 2014 Blog, Dark, Poetry 0

by Lilly Baxley

The skin is loose and pulled from place

skull, bones visible beneath their face

eyes dark, set in an evil stare

waiting, to give their prey a scare.

Risen from the grave,

searching for the one thing they crave

growling, grunting, and bracing their teeth

into flesh, they quickly seep.

They could move slow or even fast

either way, you would not want to be last

they will never stop seeking you out

their sense of smell is endless, no doubt.

They will never stop to sleep or catch their breath, they don’t breathe

the question is, will you survive

through the epidemic, will you thrive?

Are you prepared to fight

Can you stay calm without any light?

The apocalypse will not be fun

all I can advise you to do, is run!

About Lilly Baxley

Stage manager, theater lover, artist in various forms. poetry writer and wannabe killer of zombies! (Michonne in the making)

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