Old Zombie

In the shadows where the whispers creep, Where secrets lie and silence weeps, An ancient curse walks through the night, The old zombie stirs, a ghastly sight. With tattered clothes and eyes of gray, It roams the earth in disarray, A shuffling gait on broken ground, The echo of a mournful sound. Once a soul with dreams to chase, Now lost in time, a ghostly trace, Forgotten laughter turned to moans, In graveyards deep where sorrow groans. Its skeletal fingers reach for air, Through thorny brambles and midnight’s glare; Each hollow step tells tales of dread— Of lives once lived now long since dead. Oh! How it craves what it can’t find— The warmth of life left far behind; With every howl that chills the bone, It calls to those who stand alone. Yet in its eyes a spark still glows— A flicker of life from long ago; For even monsters know despair— The weight of love lost everywhere. So heed this warning as shadows fall: When darkness rises and echoes call: Beneath the moon’s pale silver gleam, Lurk forgotten dreams within the scream. In haunted nights when fear takes hold, Remember stories that must be told; For even zombies have their pasts— And echoes linger long after they’ve passed.