My Zombie poem...way out of left field but here it is

Within the world of Maryfairing, lived a light of eternal caring. 

But when that light went dim one day, all this world would see decay.

From fourth the country came a noise that shattered and tattered the New Years joys.

They came on hobbling like puppets on strings, ramped and hungry for human things

Their eyes were white and their hands were cold, and, oh, their flesh reeked of boggy mould.

Their bare feet squished through filth and mud, as their bellies moaned for human blood

Within the city the people cried, “Such a crime! Such a crime! We’ve nowhere to hide.”

As the undead approached with their lifeless eyes, some ran, some screamed, some sought disguise.

The minister, old, he laid in bed, until a ringing came from a phone which said:

“They’re monsters, o dear! After our children, we fear! For our lives may end, the solution is unclear!”

“Relax” Spoke the minister, whose smile was quite sinister.  “Send the guards quick.  Sir, are we quite finished here?”

With that the minister rolled over to his wife, who was blond and beautiful of only 16 years of life.

“Again they weep for hand outs my dear, let the poor be eaten...we’re safe up here”

He leaned in close and kissed her head, but she was still, so still, she could have been dead!

The old minister’s heart fluttered “my darling? Are you well?  Should I call for your mother?”

Her eyes flue open, as pale as the sheets, her body was stiff as she stood on her feet.

The minister, afraid as she reached out for him, and each limb from another, she savagely tore him.

The blood stained the carpet worth a quarter million euro, which he’d bought with a loan from the pension baeuro.

Dead was the minister, with blood filled lung, when as through from a jack-in-the-box his body was sprung.

Then husband and wife limped down to the street, insatiably hungry for human meat.

In the streets people ran as shots were fired, knowing now the minster was a great dead liar.

As guards and ghost all one became, only a few stood alive their country to reclaim.

Faint children dragged their own lifeless feet, shots rang out to cause their defeat.

The live rebels they ran from safe hold to safe hold, all the while watching their families grow cold.

One rebel looked his sister in the eyes, as they glazed over and met her undead demise.