Scorn

Caedere


No more - will we – obey, obey your wish to kill.
No more – victims - caused by, caused by your wordless plaque.
Sod off - get out - my face, you fucking – stinking chunk.
Exiled - you are, - your words without the load of truth.
Crushed you by our scorn. Nothing on to torn – a body outworn.
The purpose for you which, for which you are born – crushed you by our scorn.

You will not rule us, (we’re) not you slaves!
Rot is your system, to the bone.
War hymns about the glorious dead.
Not so glorious but certain they are.
No!
We’re not your kind!

No more - will we – obey, obey your wish to kill.
No more – victims - caused by, caused by your wordless plaque.
Sod off - get out - my face, you fucking – stinking chunk.
Exiled - you are, - your words without the load of truth.
… the load of truth.

Experience,
the scorn,
the suffering.
It is here.
Scorn!
Your urge to kill. That’s not our will.
We’re not your kind! Flee you worm.

We’re not your kind!
You feel our scorn!
Fools are the blind.

You feel our scorn

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