She thrust her fist through the earth. Departed no more, she is an entity. At once, lost to the grave, now animated through creation. Mortality reaped by vitality.
She crawls across the dew-dripped grass. A being of demise recently deceased, yet pulsating palpably. Life after afterlife.
She shambles upon a wrought-iron archway. The end begins a new existence, fatality a fleeting moment. Quietus deafened by quintessence.
She moans vigorously, a monster in the night, lost between the living and the dead.