They Glow Cherry Red

 

This is the last recording that we shall make

We chose to stand our ground and there’s no more escape

 

Our bastion and our last defense is overrun

There is no more ammo for our gun

 

A moan, a shuffle we can hear

The enemy that we most fear

 

Screams of the dying and the dead

Those former, the latter, when the latter have fed

 

Rotting flesh roils through the corridor

Outside the sound passes, returns, no more

 

One single scratch at the barricade

A monster lurks, spoiled with skin that’s grayed

 

An echoing roar gives away the position

The beasts now flock with uncanny precision

 

No life in them left, they march upon us

Entrails falling, boils oozing pus

 

I look out the window, a final look at the skies

Oh God, they have us,

Their eyes…

Their eyes…