Death

Death isn't bad, it's nothing to mourn.
It's the place where life is torn.
Ghouls fly in the air like soaring kites,
Covering your mind within the heights.
Zombies sneaking, devouring flesh.
Running to your grave, while your skin is still fresh.
Osiris bypasses you, allowing you to walk.
There are no words, no room to talk.
Your mouth almost forms a smile,
Hoping that we'll stay here for a while.
But soon, the vampires will run out of things to bite.
Ghosts will stop their moans in the night.
Humid fog will swallow your vision,
Giving your happiness to hell's prison.
You slowly realize, not even death is an escape,
Starting to take a demon's shape.
But we can always try, you and me.
We'll pack our bags. Breathe in defeat.