It was upon the pain spattered moon
this night so many years ago
the crimson stained candelabras burned

The cellos moaned suffering upon those screams in the night
liquid violence trailed behind him
blood stained foot prints leading the chase

It was upon a dare
now the chase began

Caught up in those grim horrors
they were of meat hooks painted in blood
torsos hung with no appendages left

Screaming wraiths and gaseous blades
They were snapping at his heels
It was to deaths’ door he ran
His friends were dead long ago

He kept telling people the demons still came

Screams in the night saturated in murder

They ripped through night

Under the moon burning red in anger

In Romania mothers tell their little children an old lore to get them to go to sleep
“when the moon burns high you must be asleep, or else the zombies will come out of the cornfields and eat you.