One cold October evening

Through the streets there was a smell

That of death and cold pale flesh and the sound of the passing bell

Through the streets across the field

So sweet the tone did sound

Upon her ear the bell danced in fear

Knowing what evil it had found

That feeling comes upon her like a distant storm

Waits in darkened portals

For the mourners to be gone

Just a passing shadow on a cold stone wall

Drawn nearer to the one who calls

My heart was a quiver as she opened the gate

The Necrophilic source of her ghoulish fate

In a blind fevor she moves to the gate

Tearing into the body with a Necrophilic rage

The jackal stares down smiling in force

As the waxen corpse is made a main course

Bits of flesh fly as the jackal cries

You could see Satan's poison deep in her eyes

She's a monomaniac

She's a necropheliac

Succumb to carrion withcery

Fervent in nocturnal mystery