Don't Dead Open Inside

Dead
 Coming up dead
 Contamination
 Stab
 After the stab
 Decapitation
 Wave
 Over the wave
 The fall of nation
 Dead
 Everyone's dead
 The bodies are rising from the ground
 That were considered dead
 The living dead had taken more from us than land and loved ones
 They'd robbed us of our confidence as the planet's dominant life form
 We were a shaken, broken species
 Driven to the edge of extinction
 And grateful only for tomorrow
 With perhaps a little less suffering than today
 Was this the legacy we would leave our children
 A level of anxiety and self-doubt not seen
 Since our simian ancestors cowered in the tallest trees?
 What kind of world would they rebuild?
 Would they rebuild at all?
 Could they continue to progress
 Kowing that they would be powerless to reclaim their future?
 And what if that future saw another rise of the living dead?
 Would our descendants rise to meet them in battle
 Or simply crumple in meek surrender
 And accept what they believe to be their inevitable extinction?
 For this alone, we had to reclaim our planet
 We had to prove to ourselves that we could do it
 Aand leave that proof as this war's greatest monument
 The long, hard road back to humanity
 Or the regressive ennui of Earth's once-proud primates
 That was the choice, and it had to be made now
 Use your head
 Cut off theirs
 Stab them
 Stop them
 Somebody stop them
 Go on and stab them
 Stop them
 Stab them