The dead will rise
and hunt you down,
ripping you apart
until there is no sound.
Blood soaked ground
and empty swings
as the wind blows
between undead things.
Night soon falls,
let’s hope your eyes adjust
since in this world,
you never know who to trust.

© Autumn Siders 2017
RIP George A. Romero 2/4/1940-7/16/2017