Logic

Your ways of logic are fu*ked, gutted, and thrown to the wolves. A weaker metamorphosis can never survive. Alone with us, you’ll never make it out alive. Your ways of belief are fu*ked, gutted, and thrown to the wolves. Useless thoughts are now obsolete. Your only purpose is to be stripped of your meat. You’ll pray. Beg for death. This pain never ceases unless by my hand. Hatred flows through this human form like sinew,…yet as I watch you die…I feel nothing. We’ll slit the throats of the neigh Sayers and witness the approaching dawn. With the morning dew collecting on glossy dead eyes, hand in hand we feel nothing.