A Warning From the Meek
Sharpen your tomahawks;
lace up your boots and
crank up your war machines.
A hurricane of spleen and bone
is coming,
with the tortured souls of fury
at the head.
You’ve built faulty systems
to repair your faulty systems;
nothing you’ve conceived
ever manifested into anything
before it turned to dust and blood.
Your numbers are wrong,
the calculations have handicapped
other systems and they’re really
quite fucking angry about it.
Haven’t you ever wondered why
in all the prayers in all the world
there aren’t any that don’t
ask for something?
Horror Sleaze Trash 