"The march of the undead".
The troops march on, they have no fear of death.
These corpses feel no pain, nothing dares to cross their path.
Their faces tell no emotions, only the hunger for slaughter.
Raping, killing and burning everything down to the floor.
Everything silent during the day, at night the soulless bodies thrives.
The undead make their ways, from city to village, making sure no one survives.
The troops march on, they have no mercy for the living.
These soulless carcasses are in need of flesh and blood, only pain will be given.
The sound of flesh being torn from the bones, corpses work as of one mind.
The pieces of meat flying around, skin and bones, the undead leave little behind.
The living who have been alerted, run for their lives, they won't run very far.
These undead carnivores come from every corner, no way to escape, only the morningsun could end this unreal war.
Leaving behind only death and decay, they won't stop until their hunger is satisfied.
The blood, the go