Affliction

The purple shroud of country dark

attends the flock of bleating sheep,

the aspen kissed with nether-mist,

the mould'ring souls of bloodless sleep!

The farmers, gathered, eye the field

its downy lot stained slaughter red

the pyres lit, the victims burned

deny the fiends their feasting-dead!

Return to th' copse that hither-night

to catch the ghouls in grisly rage

their crumbling teeth gnaw blackened bones

the stakes they raise, the war they wage!

And, one by one the zombies fall

burned, dismembered, buried deep

so ne'er again, the town will fear

that shambling hoarde from graveyard deep!