The Curse

As an intense storm illuminates darkness
A heavy mist oozing from a military plant
Spreads over an ancient cemetery
Absolute silent reigns while that mist
Pierces within moist land
Noises from crypts and graves announce a macabre image
The bodies are leaving their tombs, returning to life
A perfect scenery of divine impurity

The reek of putrefaction is ubiquitous
Human remains crawl toward the houses
Their hunger induces pain
Their popping-eyes hinder their sight
However, the hellish troop goes on with its march

The human bloodbath is just beginning
Little by little, the population is devoured
Flesh and blood can be seen on the pavement
Dismembered bodies are drawn to obscurity
Corpses are suspended in hooks and sliced
Others, hanged in their own guts

Genital organs are consumed with great pleasure
The smell of burnt flesh is unbearable
The village is consumed by flames
Agonizing whispers deploy the ravage

At last, only ashes from an entombed land remain
Brutalized by a sick voracity
And the silent march of hideous beings
Straight to the next massacre