Mouthpieces of deception,
Hearts are contra, pro are hands
Faceless faceveils instead faces,
Eyes full of indifference
Crowd of deadborns romp about
Trampling ground underfeet.
Muddleheaded generation,
Spend its aimless being in shit.
In the line of rotting worms
I wait for fair boots God
To repress us all around
Suppressing nausea in his throat
Hereon wishing to be conscius
Of a blunder commited
He’ll create from dirt and ashes
New detachment for his tests
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