We all have an inherent body-count accountability hanging from the gallows in your mind side by side with sympathy way back, deep in your subconscious hibernating in guilt laden realizations of all that we have killed
and we say 'good riddance to their kind' committed to the crime the bees are unimpressed it's all lost in your wake
we are all flattering abuse, fighting sociopaths ideological childhood peers, our indoctrinated graph [?] we need to feel for others, we have to care to survive so afraid to feel any pain, disconnected from my hive
we say 'good riddance to their kind' committed to the crime the bees are not impressed it's all lost in your wake
and it only hurts when your heart beats or you're hanging on to loss but it's far too strong everyone that's gone... at last, it's all repressed inside your head