we have barely filled the cup half empty you can only follow me if you must but don't trust me because we are barely filling the void dream in silence, block out the noise
i am the walking dead
there's nothing left, we've lost the war. waters rise on crimson shores, our blood is filth to stain the earth. we've lost the best, become the worst.
the heartbeat within me is my weakness, sounding the drums of war, they are drawn to it. as ancient evil drags the sun down to it's knees, the horizon as black as coal. i want to consume the cancer. become it, destroy it but maggots fester underneath the flesh, decayed by hunger and disease. i know now our enemy is one, and the empty husks serve merely as vessels a host for the blasphemous appetite, voracious and malignant. empty. there is no rest in death. no solace for surrender. it has stolen our sleep, this hysterical force of cannibal misery. and our ancensters weep, for they now roam this lifeless world endlessly. try to ignore the stench of our rotting lives, and endless moan of fetid eyeless beasts. this curse of undeath has forced us from our slumber only to wake in the final moments before all becomes nothing.
i watch the train fade from the station, and the lights in the city fall so slowly out of reach my eyes start to close as the lights fade to black. i hope that this will be over soon, because it's been a long time coming, and it's a long way down
salt the wounds, curse the sky, hold your tongue, dry your eyes wet your blade, wipe it clean, stain the earth, rise again.