The Living Dead

Asunder is rent
The heart of a man
When in woe does find
No soul left behind

As trampled to dust
His home a crushed husk
Search him to see
Corpses, family

In wailing undone
Final strings unstrung
Ghoulish fever does pitch
Numbing throes of unimportant stitch

Life ground to bones
In his dying moans
Promises to be made
Retributions by the blade

Born is to be
In spite blood does see
A cause to avenge
Life named revenge

New purpose found
Death within bound
Renamed the living dead
In stares blinding red

Acres to travel
Steps minor hurdle
Vigour of hatred
Burns in heart battered

Fear him
The fleeting manic grim
One of flesh and bone
Unliving as his broken home