devynbytes

Here's an amusing yet gruesome little love poem for zombie fans. It came out in free verse back in 2010. I thought I would turn it into a story someday, but I never got around to it. Anyway, Happy Valentine's...

There was a day not long ago, When graves became alive, Ejecting the dead in waves of decaying flesh and bone; A day when the dead sought out the living, Hungry for the tissue of sentient life.

And we all ran, fearing the end of days, But determined to rage against the cursed, Unwilling to give up the purity of our blessed reality; When we fought back with anger, Against the insanity of the unfathomable.

That was the day we gathered together In bands of brotherly love, Coming together to fight as one against the undead hordes; The day when boundaries between us Meant nothing, and humanity grew as one.

It was a day when we realized the purity of each moment; A day when all our pettifoggery amounted to empty syllables; And the living dead reminded us of how Precious our mundane lives could be.

It was the day I first beheld you, In your yellow summer dress, Speckled with crimson ichor and rotting meat; The day I saw your silky, cinnamon hair And azure eyes that melted my stolid heart.

It was the day I determined my destiny with you, In arms against the Devil's legions; Confidantes in a war for the survival of the human race; When through unspoken words we Vowed to carry on the future of our kind.

And I remember as we fought with spirit, Slashing our way through rivers of blood, When through your pleading countenance you stole my breath in gasps; And I rose with adrenaline strength To strike down a wall of animate remains.

It was the day I saw you fall, Surrounded by a horde of corpses; When I rushed to aid you in your need, only to fail in your final moments; The day I held you in my arms And watched azure eyes dim to gray.

That was the day when, moments later, You awoke a demon spawn, And I felled you with a wooden stake upon your graceful temple. It was the day I, too, died a little, But tricked by fate to love beyond the living dead.

#Poetry

©️ Devyn, 2010

My monster has no face, but it stares relentlessly. It has no voice, yet it shouts louder than my thoughts can contain. There are no beating hearts or gory fangs to latch onto, but it terrifies me nonetheless. I can only wish for a typical toothy phantom.

No, my monster is a bright, ever-present light, mocking my time and eating away at my confidence. It's a taunting whisper in my mind, never-ending and sinister. My monster is a blank, expressionless void that haunts the spaces between my seconds. And the only way to beat it is to write down these words.