Death, Fear, Ignorance, and Rot

I am awake in the dream navigating around zombies who exist in the same place where they died. They grapple only for food, the minimum required for their existence. I realize they are most dangerous not because of their base appetite but because of their fear of waking up. The dead do not seek light; there is life in the light. The stench of their own rotting flesh engulfs what used to be their lungs. They reject all that lives and life is in the breath.  Instead they rot in state of colorless grey the same as those who whither in ignorance. Oh how the ignorant find comfort in not knowing. It is the place of the familiar where they do their dying. Stagnant and backwards, nothing grows in contentment.