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The Sonnet Of The Undead

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Below is the poem entitled The Sonnet Of The Undead which was written by poet Shanice Hilliard. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Sonnet Of The Undead

There is a garden where things do not grow
Where dead men lie down on their final throne
The grass and trees a melancholy row
A marble forest--obelisks of stone
Under the earth the dead begin to stir
The ground opens as the corpses arise
An unholy night where evil does occur 
The tearing of flesh as remaining good dies
They walk the night with a dutiful stride
Warm, red blood dripping from their malformed jaw
The women and children screaming as they hide
From beasts of men who are rotting and raw    

The fire scorches the last of the land
And all that is life sinks into the sand

Copyright © Shanice Hilliard

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