Will This Be The End?

Stuff

 

The hunger for power drives you to extinction

 

Features of the free sun, ignored for pleasures from the black cinder

 

The need to be free and live cheaply

 

Giving my Earth an illness, a degenerative vicious sickness

 

Splutter all you want for their minds are closed

 

As their rotting husks of biological mass will lead you to death, slowly,

 

masking our faces for the reality is uncovered, that the origin of the affliction is choice of words infected

 

Ones whom acts upon vulgar tendencies, irrational hatred and no enemies.

 

The ones who oversee and serve, propagate the persecution of the execution of my Earth

 

Are the parasites directed to the gallows, corpses hung in shame, saying obligation, saying abstain.

 

For death is the only method for these primitives to rein.

 

And hope to usher an epoch of peace is a likely view to hold but will never remain.