JONAS

His job is just organizing and some marketing
The thoroughbreds of the right fear him
Why can't they just let him bloom and wither
They'd water it more by their blood-dripping hands
Why keep on with the slaughter
Nobody fears dying except those zombies
The living dead who growl
The blood sucking werewolves
Whose eyes are a dead giveaway
Not a dint of life in those eyes
From the depths they'd keep crawling up
To live a life they'd never understand
Eliminating the brave who'd like to see
The dawn of a new day in their blighted land
Which the living dead never care about
Amidst their own stench
They'd gallop in sinful abandon
Till they start roaring and shrieking
Not unlike their master who tempted in vain