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Ulcerate
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The Destroyers Of All
They fall from spoiled skies*
Strangled of grace
And know only to mask their vile faces
They know not the figure staring back at them;
Not their beginning nor end
They surrender in blissful fate
The undying pariah
To which the cowards shun and beg remission
Cold-blooded and callous
It does not grieve
It will never grieve
So detached, the destroyers
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Wide eyed in rapture and unfulfilled
In ignorance they remain
Until their ruin
Bring me the comfort of cold inertia
Bring me the graves, poised for our leaden demise
Our extinction, seeded in blind avarice
Come dawn, no light will be thrown on them
This vermin, these ingrates
Us of the earth
The destroyers of all
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