The whores roam deep within society’s crumbling pastry

Screwing the procured mesh fences

Destroying humanity with falsely uttered breaths of depravity.

The angry mobs with flames burning

The fire glowing in their shamefully closed eyes,

Seething with rage at those who wish to stop it

Wish to pull the whores to pieces….

We are after all a minority.




The night sky is littered with escaping specks of hell.

The mob at the edge of the forest,

Their tongues entwined with the filthy emotional prostitutes,

Sculling with vigor the pills and liquids that drown their guilt;

The morale of society tied to a splintered stake

The hate licking its flesh to death.




They sing with drunken malice

The glint of dead emotion stale in their eyes,

Morale squeals with girlish horror

Contorts its body with the agony of the searing flames;

The whores cry with laughter and swallow their dirty dollar bills….




At the edge of a forbidden forest lie the ashes of humanity,

Burnt to death with morale, compassion and love.

Drunk on the ground beside lies a twisted orgy of greed

Power and perverted, vile depravity.

All that was decent shot and slaughtered on the eroded earth…

And in that moment of apocalypse the sky opens up

Weeping,

Bleeding upon the charred vocals of sordid demise.