I see them, In front of the rising sun, Dragging through the dusty streets, Souless vessels, What have they become? Travelling in packs, But unknowing of each other, Due to their own hunger, Harrowing facts, Dead behind their eyes, With only their thirst, at the forefront of their existance, And the worst is.... just in the distance, I observe from my place of safety, As their condition spreads like rabies, Among the minority of the living, Men,women,babies Survivors scramble, Scrimp and scrape In the wake of what it takes, to be awake, Shake at the sight of the onset, Of the walking dead, Stalking the living, Craving life, but substituting The day for night, Darkness plauges the light, And my compassion burns, Like the venom in their bite, The ultimate sacrifice, When hell is full, The dead will roam the earth, Cursed, Like, they met the hearse But rebirthed, Not happy with just consuming the race, They want the dirt from which we emerged, also. Rip guts from the torso, No regard for the law, so The army engaged with, Techniques of the mind, For eyes only, blind M.K....wait, M.C.....donalds, Equivelates to the cuisine, Like its blood they bottle, As they roam, I fire headshots to their domes, When all I really want to do, Is just show them the way home.