One For Missy Aka Hungering

Streets are dead in many ways as ever looms the reapers snare. Those asleep have now arisen, that vacant swarm with deathly glare. A deadly tide of hungering souls, for whom the church bell gloomingly tolls. A windswept scape engulfed by death and patrolled by corpse with stifled breath. Tomorrow has nowt' but a bite, an endless plight of fight or flight. With future plagued my final sigh succumbs to fates cold lullaby.