Here I am

Sleeping in my own grave as I pray

For that one man to come,

Oh how I've longed for that day!

Perhaps he will hear,

Perhaps he will see

How dearly I wish to be free,

Why don't the others listen?

Have they no ears?

Or have they forgotten

Of that fine line in between?

The line that defines friend and foe,

The line that no one seems to know,

What I thought were my friends now cower in fear,

In every instance they see me

They fire lightening through the air,

A shot through the lung,

A shot through the heart,

None of it matters

They'd shoot through my head if they were smart,

I've tried to die many times before,

Splurging myself in seas of toxins

Hoping to alleviate the pain

For if I go to Hell

At least I'll feel sane,

But that did not work,

It only hurt more,

Now here I am again,

Sleeping in my own grave as I pray

For that one man to come,

Oh how I've longed for that day!

Perhaps he will hear,

Perhaps he will see

How dearly I wish to be free,

What is that?

Footsteps I hear

Marching through my alley,

Coming very near,

"You've got it Mister Freeman!"

My false allies would say

Heeding his silent orders

Heeding my silent pray,

As they run past me now I seize my chance to rise,

Offering a pleading claw

With blood dripping down my thighs,

"God help,"

I scream beneath that parasitic mask

"God help me!"

"Zombie!" they announce,

Sending bullets zipping through the air,

I nearly hurl with agony

Both of emotion and body,

The thing on my head commanding that I kill them,

Bringing up my arms with abnormal doughty,

"Get 'em off me!" their unrestrained words cry,

Only when a cool metal fork came toward me

Whistling through air

Did at last peace come,

"Thank you for listening…"

I said as my soul bit ado

"I am free…"

Now here comes round two