A Voice from the Flaming Tower of Contempt

I blanche

Sick to my gut at the mollycoddled nations

Of my species

Gluttons, how dare you breathe a single word

Of complaint, with your gaping, obese faces stuffed to capacity

With the filth of the land which you deem nutrition

You stunted, white-collar fucks

Who drive men and women of diligence and ardour

To ignominious and shameful suicide in foul tunnels

Crammed with governmental waste and lies and dead bodies

Finding their way through the shit and piss to merely become liveleak videos

Which pass more for snuff films than movements in the direction of need for change

I preach a great deal of unity and oneness

But you, you eunuch sons of whores who sit behind

Innocents

Civilians

Misguidedsoldiers

Titles

Currency and

Desks in your marbled strongholds like thrones

In some pathetic guise of being the ideal human beings

Deserving of our perpetual admiration

Murderers, hear me

Your loyal subjects will turn on you shortly

Like dobermans possessed by the Destroyer of Worlds

And I swear before your beloved christ

I will watch you burn in your fetid bodybags

Before I cease to breathe.