Walking through the woods, weapons in hand
The group fights the dead in common land
The men are tasked with finding the food
While the women are expected not to be rude
Every new habitat they seek for safety,
Does not seem to please the rest of society
Resting for months on a comfortable farm,
Also had it's doubts come forward with harm
During the night the farm had burned down
The dead had come from all around
With little to no time left to spare,
The rest of the group had escaped feeling bare
Back to square one the group had been found,
Looking for places for a new camp ground
When out on a hunt the leader did see,
A prison, the size of a fortress, through the trees
He quickly ran back to tell the group,
That soon they will be in for some nice warm soup
They ran towards the prison to clear out the dead,
Then rejoiced into happiness and climbed into bed
And many years later while the dead still roam,
The people will always remember, there's no place like home