The Mark of Man - The Craven

Swirling muck in the periphery
The stench of wroth, wroth and malice
Rotten words seep through rotting teeth
This is the reign of the craven
Among the plaguebringers, the ones who seep the fetid scorn
Internalise the casting stones, scars that eclipse the brittle bones
Indoctrinate, alpha domain, skewed paradigm, the victims blamed

Fuck these iron fists
Despotic psyche
With bloodied throats and wrists
Vapid hearts lie in our midst
As we rot in the age of the narcissist
The buried lightbringers, whose souls do weep from fearful eyes
A cup of swill pressed to their lips from blighted dawn till putrid dusk
The nausea, majority, they dominate, in misery

Hollowed, lurking in plain sight
Indoctrination to absurdity
Reversal of roles, the truest of beasts
The viral thieves of light and virtue
Empathetic void ‘neath egos crown
Shoulder to monstrous shoulder, looming
So called humanity nowhere to be found
So to the hollowest of skies, I’ll pray for your death
I pray for your death