The Succubus
Tribune
Zombies pour from graveyards, into the streets
A war upon humanity, no succor for the meek
Total devastation, mere pockets of relief
A trio strides into the wild, armed unto the teeth
When behold!
A lissome maid flits by!
Clothed in only passion with lustful eye
Yet avaunt!
She mounts a corpse nearby!
A ghoulish love for undead in a form divine
She must die!
Some things must not be!
The trio tracks her through the mountains
Into hot lands to the east
They cannot help but think of her
The things she did with joyful cheek
Dank, permissive taproom; broadsword, cutlass, mace
The trio's hearts a-thunder as they come face to face
And freeze in place
What a form!
A proper goddess nigh!
She lures the trio closer with a sigh
Let alas!
She's of the succubi!
She whispers to them words they cannot deny
We obey!
Your words are so sweet!
We serve every need!
Kill yourselves
Let you fall by each others hands
Let my undead feast upon your brains
The trio turns on each other
Each of their friendships turning to hate
The chance to fuck a succubus
Is worth the grisly fate
We are dead!
We love you mistress!