the dead

I pray thee understands, do not ever wake the dead.

they sleep deep beneath our feet, not to be disturbed from their dreams.

it is in the dark, wet and cold they lie and keeping silent as time passes by.

I pray thee heeds this command, do not dig where they rest.

their stillness is calming as you do not wish to startle their sacred nest.

it is in the catacombs they hide from the light, from the living.

I pray thee fears the damned, if awoken they will consume all you have.

they are buried in secret by design, never to be found.

it is in the hell they reside, not to be released, no to be unleashed.

I pray thee never forgets, once the beast is freed she will roam the land with terror and hunger.

do not wake her, do not ever wake her from the dead, her lair so deep below our feet.