In the moonlit streets of Paris,
Where baguettes and brains collide,
Four undead souls embarked on a quest,
Their zombie hearts filled with pride.
Marmite, the gourmet ghoul,
Loved to feast on escargot and spleen,
With a beret perched on his rotting head,
He sipped red wine and danced in between.
Pegleg, the zombie pirate, arrr!
His peg leg clattered on cobblestone lanes,
He sought buried treasure in crypts and tombs,
And sang sea shanties in eerie refrains.
Mastertouchme, the artist revenant,
Painted landscapes with hues of decay,
His canvas adorned with crumbling cathedrals,
And the Eiffel Tower half-eaten away.
Exstander, the philosopher zombie,
Pondered existence and existential dread,
He mused, “Is undeath merely life turned inside out?”
As pigeons perched on his mossy head.
Together they roamed the Seine’s murky banks,
Chasing rats and memories of mortal days,
Their undead camaraderie unbreakable,
In the City of Light’s eternal haze.
So raise your rotting goblets, mes amis,
To these French zombie misfits so bizarre,
For in their decayed hearts, adventure thrived,
In the shadowed alleys of Paris, near and far.