Dare a peep or sound be made
on the night of the walking dead
move slightly so you don't provoke
the zombie who'll remove your head.
But as you creep along the wall
where just beyond the undead crawl
your palms sweat with anticipation
for you must attempt their decapitation.
When the axe swings forth from your hand
the undead's head rolls from the neck
from which the living had no chance
to escape a zombie's deathly dance.
Victory at last is yours to claim.
The night has finally turned to day.
All the people rejoicefully praise
your efforts that pushed the dead away.
Upon the celebration of a newer year,
the harvest moon reveals a glowing wound,
a terrible omen leaves you unspoken,
unleashing in your eyes a newer fear.