TERROR 2

In a churchyard down a darkened lane
A voice cries out in fear and pain.
A body falls by an empty crypt
A life from which the life's been ripped.

A shadow flits through the churchyard gate,
A nightmare shape composed of hate.
The smell of blood is on its breath
Around it hangs the stench of death.

Towards the village the shadow creeps
Where unaware its victims sleep.
It finds a room where people dream
They wake in terror, too late to scream.

From house to house it makes its way
Till none are left to see the day.
Streets that once were full of life
Now run with blood from the butcher's knife.

With the dawn its work is done
So to its tomb, the light to shun.
To sleep like death and not to wake
Till once again its thirst to slake.

COPYRIGHT D M PAMMENT 2009