Alternation - Sarke

Shovels in hands, he has to be moved

His torment of land must be ended

Making their way into his grave

Will his betray be amended?

Deep in the ground, down in the dark

His body is found grim as dreaded

The repellent smell of moulder and rot

The odour of Hell from the wounded

Revolting and foul, decomposition

Still on the prowl, the departed

Fright in their eyes, task is commenced

His gruesome days will be ended