The trembling rings of despair.
Where colours fade into red,
The water turns corroding sour.
The decadence rots in civilisations.
Where joints of decays flipped
Into swamps of maggots.
Why the chase,
When helplessness is the chasers?
What to sustain,
When it’s only husks the soulless live?
The one who claimed to be humanity,
But mechanical clogs in the grand society,
The fairest Babylon.
Toiling in the grand scheme.
Submitting to the grand princes,
With a contemporary ingenious yet distasteful name.
And the cities ring again,
In the glasses of blood and oppression,
Where no one cares
Of the struggling little ones.
Blood are sucked to feed
Ourselves from ourselves,
Until no little ones can be exploited anymore.
Oh do you identity yourselves as human?
Then why do you kill your own kind
For the lust of power and overpowering.
‘Tis no difference than cannibalism.
The grand harvest of soul shall begin soon.
When the earth sinks,
Boils and simmers,
And shatters
By the hammer of the creator,
Which is the fool bearing the name humanity.
Oh the world stinks
Of the blood we have shed from ourselves.
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