• Walking down a lonely street
    midnight black and full of sleet
    from behind I hear a sound
    a scratch, a groan, a muffled pound
    I look and see to my surprise
    a small child causing these cries
    He sees me and the moans increase
    He falls to the ground and all sounds ceace
    He reaches out as if in pain
    I go to help and to my disdain
    a blood like sludge begins to pool
    He'd look just fine only to a fool
    I lift him up into my arms
    to keep him safe from further harm
    I smile down with warmth and grace
    which dissapears as I see his face
    slightly green and covered in grime
    surely a victim of some foul crime
    His skin, it hangs in bits and shreds
    hardly a hair lies on His head
    His mouth surrounded by blood and gore
    eyes both filled with hunger galore
    A creature disguised in Abercrombie
    In my hands I hold a zombie.