Run,
Says the morning sun,
With its ever-burning marks left behind,
Yet from the previous day it aligned.
The only thing that can,
Being not a matter of if, but when,
Bring my species,
To its knees.
Our doom has only just begun,
But already I must run,
No time to rest,
Survival is reserved only for the best.
The people scream so many words,
But when we approach we see the sweat in their shirts,
Still screaming, "WALKER!" "BRAINDEAD!",
Then they shoot their lead.
Like we're not alive,
Like we don't thrive,
We are swarmed with bullets & arrows,
Pure savages they are, with their bloody bows.
I know the people I've bitten in their necks,
The children I ate,
The sun tries to avenge me for their lethal cracks,
Leaving me behind living only in the shade.
Credits
-Picture: Pixabay
-Poem:
