The Dead are coming to this place.
The moon trembles and bows its face.
Thunder strikes a chord in the distance.
No one can mount a strong resistance.
Lightning sizzles and dances in place.
Soon red and yellow streaks join the race.
The Dead return in force
As Wolf rides a black horse.
He leads his army to town
while he wears a wicked frown.
I know he’s searching for me.
Quiet as a mouse I’ll be.
But soon he’ll find my hiding place,
Blaring trumpets quicken his pace.
Time has come to a complete stop.
He stares at me from bottom to top.
He wants me for his frozen bride.
Too late for me to run or hide.
He takes me into his arms for a kiss,
But what I want to do is yell and hiss.
I don’t want to be one of The Dead.
I walk behind him with growing dread.
The battle lines have been drawn,
And I’m merely Wolf’s small pawn.
PREY FOR THE DEAD