©
 Deborah L. Kelly

Creep time is coming around again,

where the night is pitch and the air is thin.

Drops of blood trailing city streets;

zombies rise from earthen creeks.

Tombstones split and tumble down

as bony hands reach out for ground.

Remains of decay hanging here and there;

falling pieces foul the air.

It wasn’t just zombies climbing out of the ground;

ghosts and long dead souls abound

hissing out of earns, jangling bits of crypts,

some with no eyes, all without lips.

Rag-tag clothing hanging down

as fragments fall and hit the ground.

Puffs of arid soil arise and smother,

you cannot breathe, you’re pulled asunder.

Currents of evil along the ground;

they pull, they pull, you’re going down.

Sinking downwards the earth is crumbling;

while all around the dead keep mumbling.

Some were rotted more than others,

looking at them made you shudder.

You pray you’re dreaming, you’ll awaken soon,

there are wolves now baying at the moon.

No light, no light, how can I see

when one of them is close to me?

They are dangerous, they’ll bite my flesh

and I’ll become just like the rest.