WAVES ARE CHURNING

The waves are churning.

My face is burning.

What’s coming for me.

I don’t want to see.

It rises from the deep.

When all are fast asleep.

The Dead come ashore.

For me they’ve come for.

There’s nowhere to run or hide.

I refuse to take their side.

The Dead will not win.

They’re dripping with sin.

THE DEAD GAME

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