When the end comes will it be fire or flood?
Does death win or are we saved by God’s blood?
I’m beginning to care less and less who is right or wrong
I am starting to value might over thought, only the strong
I see animals disguised as humans destroying everything they can find
Who cares if you have the best logic when the subject has lost their mind?
I say we silence them with power
No more peace offerings and flowers
There’s glory in war and heroes in violence
So give them more until there’s only silence
They bring down monuments of the past
History is a subject for them far too vast
Therefore we will end their delusions of a future
Their remains fall apart as we tear out the suture
Leave them with nothing and no one
Empty in the dark, blot out the sun
-CL Fuqua
