Chomp Munch

In a world, where the dead refuse to stay down,
Their rotten flesh, their vacant eyes, a wicked crown.
I grabbed my pen, fueled by dark humor's fire,
To craft a tale that'll make you laugh and perspire.

"Chomp munch," the damned zombies' tune,
Their gnarled jaws, their hunger like a typhoon.
With a smirk, I let the words flow through my vein,
Weaving absurdity with terror, a twisted refrain.

Picture this: a graveyard at the witching hour,
The moon's pale face, sinister and dour.
Zombies, rising from dirt and decay,
With an insatiable hunger, night and day.

"Chomp munch," the chorus echoes in the air,
As zombies feast without a single care.
I chuckle, delighting in their absurdity,
Melding the grotesque and the humorous with clarity.