The Undead

I see the faceless figures, or do I?
The demons of the dark as they pass by
Circling over my head high
Showing the promise of death, a mere lie.

The sound of the reaper's scythe
Bearing down on my kin and kith,
The chill on my spine dancing down, so lithe!
The fog clouding my vision like a dark myth.

Unable to move, unable to stay,
The eternal horror, under death's sway,
Looking for a way out as my senses fray,
Out of the unending nightmare, from the dark foray.

Away from the corpses' stare of dismay,
Out of the land of the undead, where dreams they slay.
"you will find none, none at all!," they say,
"for your sins, this price you pay".

The chant of the undead, like the wail of a child
Abandoned by its loveless mother with shameless guile
Hit me like the night chill, coming from a mile,
So gripping, so heart wrenching, yet so mild!

I tried to run towards, and away from it.
I tried to scream as the spirits, so mirthless, closed in,
I tried to pray, to purge my soul from within,
I tried in vain, for a redemption I wasn't meant to win.

I began to feel it. The eerie emptiness inside,
The hollow numbness, without emotions contrite,
When death's weapon finally bore down on me, with a promise of respite.
And thus began the setting in of an eternal night.

They welcomed me with open arms, the spirits of the dark,
As if I were one of their own, as if it were all a mere lark,
To the land of the bedevilled, of anguish so black,
To the land of the Undead, of evil so stark.

I watched on helplessly, as the darkness engulfed me whole...