The whispers of the undead
A serenade song of gray
A spirit flickers, then flees
A butterfly flies away
An echo in the boneyard
All the eyes flicker red
Reflecting a sorrow unnamed
A foul stench of death
Is the fragrance in the breeze
Missing limbs, terrible scars
Their soul has gone
Never to awaken, rise instead
Waiting for night to dawn
They have no hope
Waiting for the end
They never sleep
Here in the body orchard
The nightmares remain
Being awake but not alive
Far too long, they wait
For nothing to save them
They will never forget
What it felt like to breathe
For once again to be alive
