The town lives silent all alone
Full of houses like a tombstone
Its people are ghosts that always haunt
They are, vile, horrid and love to taunt
Their hearts are coarse and cold like decaying cone
They lack substance, flesh, blood and bone
On their substance light is never shone
Their lifeless bodies are thin and gaunt
The town lives silent
Day after day they always hone
Their powers on an undead throne
They peruse, torment and love to daunt
Undead abilities do they vaunt
They devour men’s wits like a sweet scone
The town lives silent
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