Alas, if only the 'living dead' could 'wax poetic'...
From 'Prey' to 'Predator', all in the matter of a single bite...or perhaps...several dozen bites:
My dear wife is long dead,
Our precious offspring as well,
The ravenous dead have feasted upon their very souls.
The majority of the population has suffered the same fate, I fear,
They all, too… paid the highest of tolls...
I run and I hide to no avail,
They shadow my every move.
Laying in wait, they follow my scent,
There is no rest, no sleep that would serve to sooth...
A desolate, deserted gas station becomes my home,
Temporary haven it may be.
Though supplies are sparse and stark fear fills my pores,
For a brief time I no longer roam...
Despite the station's isolated location, my paranoia gnaws,
I barricade all windows and doors,
A prisoner of blind, stark fear I confess,
All to avoid the clutching hands and snapping, ravenous jaws...
My respite ends rudely as I awaken with a start through waves of ringing thunder,
Every fiber in my being screeching from sharp waves of indescribable pain.
The many faces mercifully blur and contort as teeth bore in and greedy fingers tear me asunder...
As probing hands submerge through flesh into the warm, pulsating entrails within, I release a final, shrieking scream,
They tug and pull and rip and tear until something vital between gives way.
I mercifully drift into the darkness beyond, praying this be but
the most horrific of dreams...
Senses…are dulled….all...sensation is…lost…
My greatest fear is…realized…
Peering into a…cracked mirror…nearby…
Displays…the personal cost...
A disembodied head….am I….the rest…greedily…consumed…
No arms…no legs…torso-less….
The hunger...builds…though powerless am I…to…
search out….that which serves to...quench…
This damnable hunger…relentless…it refuses to abate…
As something wonders nearby….which overwhelms my own rotted stench….
Lolling about…no way to feed….I wear a shroud of darkness….
Before footsteps alert me… to greet….
The flesh is…raw…the pulse of life…
Ah yes, come to me…my dear… fresh… meat….
NOTE: Terry's 'tales of the Zombie' novel, 'THE DeAd eFfEct' is scheduled for publication from Double Dragon Press in mid-2007. Containing a dozen selected 'living dead' stories, it is Terry's homage to George A. Romero and the 'dead realm' he so lovingly created. Check this site for updates!
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|Reviewed by Lois Christensen
|Written like some of the books I read by Stephen King. He makes bizarre into endings left ??? NO end. I do get chills reading this, but it is a good mysterious write. Darkness comes at last.|
|Reviewed by George Thompson
I just "dropped by" and the experience has overwhelmed me in many ways. This is a great, dark poem. You told it in first person so your readers identify with your "victim" as though they were inside the poem and ARE the victim. Great work!
|Reviewed by J.L. Day
|Twisted, demented and perfectly sinister! NICE write!!!!|
|Reviewed by Nickolaus Pacione
|This was the first time I get to read some of the poetry you wrote, hell this is the most twisted thing I've read in a long time.|
|Reviewed by Doug Boren
|I always knew that Terry is a multi talented author, and to read his poetry for the first time only serves to reinforce that notion. From prey to predator, indeed. Disturbing display of imagery and emotion is awesome! Perhaps the worst thing about being a victim of the zombies (or vampires, too, for that matter) is that you don't just die... you become one!! Very well done!|
|Reviewed by Charles O'Connor III
|Very well done Terry. I liked the imagery and the excellent emotion you have captured. I seriously think you have found another talent.
Charles D. O'Connor III
ps. check out my new story Gasta: The Land Beyond The Universe
|Reviewed by Robert Montesino
|An awesome story poem Terry, Zombie Poetry you've got something new here man! Keep em coming!|
|Reviewed by Chrissy McVay
|Very 'disturbing'. Congrats again on your Zombie novel...|
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Good grief, if this doesn't give me nightmares...chilling; powerfully effective, descriptive piece, very well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
|Again, you are a visionary of our worst nightmares, and your imagery paints a savage, raw death of the most terrible kind. I love the transition from prey to preditor...flawless!
Cheryl Kaye Tardif, author of Whale Song (2007 Kunati Books)