Trigger The Bloodshed Terminus
Neglected, the last few exist, defeatist to every last shimmer of hope*
Genuflected, with misty pallid eyes, a procession of survivors invoke
Their own euthanistic last rites, the postulation of eternal rest unscathing
In a benevolent subhuman conduct, they leave themselves hung as a warning
Our future if now, our future is never, our future is dead
Paralytic, suspended in the harsh winds above the once soaring edifices, now razed
The remains floating in a hadean paradise, laying in the once fecund soil
The foundations that bore the weight of a past assiduous mankind
Could not support that which we became, an industrial biotic machine
Crushing all mother nature has sheltered from us, drawing on
Everything she found strength for
Pulling the fear of God into humanity, oppressing the ever broadening populace
With her metaphysical cataclysms
Our future is now, our future is never, our future is dead
The aeon of recession has stricken
And will reduce mankind to mourning
Torching stramping, drowning, asphyxiating
And humanities mindless abolishment, a force has been bred
Rapidly escalating, enveloping us, carnivorously putting itself to perpetual end
Merciless is the lord reigning in his sky
Watching as humanity scrapes its way to die
The scornful eye of providence f..cks us into ill being
Expatriated into hate from a balanced state of pity
The last remaining city will be immolated
Our future is now, our future is never, our future is dead