Claws rip and tear,
The dead beware,
There is I to make your skin a wear
Shatter through coffins of pine,
What a wonderful, sickly sort of divine,
To have your eyes as mine
To build my body from yours,
Allowing your liquid to fill my pores,
Forming lovely puss-filled spores,
You were mortal and so you died,
And just as soon as it has [...]