If you disturb my sleep,
then you will awaken my curse.
After you, I will creep,
and do to you my worst.
I am the ever-living.
How do you stop the dead?
I come, unforgiving,
to fill your mind with dread.
In bandages I am preserved.
You cannot see my skin.
Through rituals my priest observed,
my life will never end.
If I come after you,
relent, I will not.
There is little you can do
to escape what I’ve got
A horror I am.
You dare not enter my tomb.
You will suffer death by my hand,
as behind you I loom.
About the Creator
Mark Stigers
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
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