A stormy weather and a long winter ahead,
A complete whitewash of the red thread,
And the uncountable rumors that spread,
From these awful “Zombies” they fled.
Into the darkness of their room,
Into the flames of their doom,
And in the next morning they bloom,
Out of their ashes they boom.
Washing away their blemishes
With a single sip of O negative
While talking of their times of yore ,
Reminiscence of their friendships and lore
.
Fragile and ruthless at once ,
Their skin is pale and numb ,
Unaware of their last dance
As they move along and hum .
Now they have to face their nemesis .
The existence of their hero ceased ,
The scarcity of odds left them bereaved ,
Walking the streets of Tangier
deceived .
Death is nothing but a phase ,
Entwined and entangled is their fate .
Contemplating the option of turning two
The Ugly truth and the brutal one too.
Oh ! How romantic of you .
