From Cold Wet Earth

The dead are rising from the cold wet earth The sticking clods to them gives birth Hands reach up to the black night sky The hoard arises and with out a cry Row on row of corpulent flesh Coming together this undead mesh Form a circle of un-living mess Crowd together and inward press On melting features on a slipping face A hint of compassion I can trace Even the hoards decay cannot erase The look of sadness and of disgrace Decaying flesh and moldy bone Pull me down into the unknown Under cool wet soil and solid stone My heart beat slows as I lie prone Their slimy fingers grip on my sleeve And their cold embrace I will receive Now for my love and life I softly grieve This putrid host will not let me leave Here I slumber far from the sky In the cold wet earth I calmly lie I wait here for the anguished cry Of a lovers soul that wants to die.