Slimewave Zero - Slugdge

«Civilisation», like locusts clad in suits they come

With their manifests in hand, engineered to corrupt

Machinations made to denude our mother’s blood

Grow their spawn upon the graves

Where once our fallen brother’s stood

Idiotic selfish ambition of humanity

Narcissistic notions of transcending mortality

Far from K-selected, slaves to their defective prosencephalon

Subject to morbid obsession with armageddon

Technopathic necromancers do their worst

Nirate fixated posthuman filth of an abhorrent birth

Sowing terror, they only see death in the dirt

Ignorant to truth that it’s the lifeblood of the earth

Systematic violence, conspiracy of silence, a biocide

Human interaction engineers disaster for all life

Desperate to escape the existential pain of their intellect

Ready to eject and leave this place in search of death

Learn to hear but not to look, to glimpse his mind is to self destruct

The fruit is ripe but it tastes of ash, there are some questions you should

never ask