by Max Grim

Created on: August 10, 2011

So it was written,
the dead shall rise from their graves.
Long had humanity desecrated this world.
How long did we think it would last?

It began with a single skeletal hand,
stretching from beneath the cracked ground.
The ghostly moon,
revealed polished bone.
As the corpse emerged from the grave,
bits of parched flesh dangled.
Eyes, with no lids, agape,
screaming mouths, with no sound.
With vile anticipation,
the unclaimed kingdom, surveyed.
One by one,
every cemetery on earth,
rose to their master's command.
It was the beginning of the end,
for a race that had failed.
They stood,
unmoving,
atop the hill, overlooking the city.
With an unsteady step,
it began.

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