Putrid resurrection in anthropophagia

...My foot were caught by a fleshless hand
Hundreds of cadavers began to rise...
From their tomb, infested by their stench
I was the prey of those living shells
Bloodthirsty, in lack of flesh...
I was caught, I was to die!

Mutilated I become, a skinned carcass
No sooner they devoured me
I join their post-mortal army
Ready to eat the human meat without mercy

The first victims arrived
We rushed at their body
Those children were dislocated
We ripped apart their skin

Their entrails turned to mushy
We tasted slowly their brains
In spite of their innocence, In pieces they finished...