Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Night of the Loving Dead

Passionate verse about undying love. Of the creepiest persuasion.

On death's door my love's hand beats
I walk this nether earth in my own clothes, not sheets.
I died so close to love's blessed union.
I walk earth now a revenge-filled apparition.
My love was so strong that it knit my flesh to bone again
My love knows no death and I am an undying terrorgan.
Through the ages I will search
my victims will crumble in my lurch
for I died just short of church
and my love was never consummated.
More by Patrick Devine → More poetry → Full issue →
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