Zombie Moon

Iron Hard
In the silence
between painful gasps
that draws the blood in a gathered drip
when your pulse slows
and your heart gives
It is in that silence when you finally hear a shifting in the woods.
a subtle rustle of the bushes where animals refuse to tread
or a loud crack of a twig from a mindless step.Relentless steps that you cannot run from.
They never tire, they never slow.

And you, with no weapon to defend yourself
no light to guide your way in the dark forest
only the frantic sound of your terror
beating in your ears.

Dare you to run, wounded and blind?
Dare you to stay, and hope they cannot smell your fear?

Dare you?

It is in the silence
between painful gasps
when the blood gathers in your wounds
that you decide if your
heart will give

As it spills it’s life into the mouth of the already dead
while you scream for a mercy it has no mind to give.

Or if it will run, as you run,
thumping frantically, like a frightened rabbit,
dashing away from the sound into the unknown,
a prayer of safer places,
of heavier hands to protect you,
to heal your wounds.

You hear a crack.
A final warning.
Your eyes widen with fear.

Dare you?


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