The wind blowing with more force. The trees were moving and the leaves falling on the ground, from behind dense clouds lightning was flashing. His window half-open he could smell rain. The dead wanted to go home and through some miracle become undead.
When he was alive. He was an average male and used to be average height. His hair was gone. His jaw was wide open like he was trying to smile. He wanted to go home and found himself at the bus-stop. His dead corpse sat with his suit on dirty and smelly. He would soon have company that would send him back to the graveyard.
The detective was getting ready to go back to the main police station. He would have to wait a little longer.
"This is base to Mickey One. We need you to go to Capital Cemetary. Over?"
He picked up the microphone.
"This is Mickey One. Over and out."
He sped his souped up Mustang over to another graveyard. The scene was all too familiar. The grave-sites that looked like they were dug out instead of dug in. A small army of police cars sitting by it. He pulled up and saw the Pastor of his church standing next to the scene of the crime. He was a distinguished man in his 50's with a bald spot. That great hairstyle with the strip in the back.
"Detective Burke nice to see you." The Pastor told him, "Umm, Pastor Williams. Is it just me or are the dead really rising from the grave?" he asked him.
"No, it's not just you. It does seem like the dead are rising from the grave. I'm sure you've looked at the graves. They weren't dug in no matter what forensics tells you. I don't think they were dug in." he told the detective.
"They're rising from the grave. Why now?" he asked him.
"I don't know. I can't answer that question for you. I do believe that the dead are rising. Their spirits have somehow come back to their bodies. They want to go home." the Pastor told him.
DEATH
As the sun slowly rises with a red glow,
my soul writhes in pain, I keep running into
death. The pain remians........
FALL,bitterness, demons haunt my soul,
when I'm alone.
WINTER, Snowflakes, Christmas trees,
mistletoe, missing warmth, missing family
member, snowflakes on a gravestone.
who cares about mistletoe
SPRING, fallen leaves, birds and bees, fallen in love?
Still missing, Empty room, untouched wordly possessions,
still pictures with memories.
1st generation, 2nd generation,
3rd........
SUMMER....is it a lot more hot in hell or is it hot up here?
When they fly with their wings is releasing pain their thing?
The Grim Reaper dances on my soul, his tongue lashes
out, I'm going to take you body and soul, because I'm on
a roll, unrequited love takes it's toll, he laughs at me when
I'm alone.
His mucous and saliva drenched smile, his red eyes
underneath that black robe cut like a knife, I'm going to
take your life and drag you with me into the deep pits of
hell where black smoke will help me give you asphyxiation
as well.--