We are nothing but an empty shell, Filling our voids with warm things to feel alive, A composition of ravished corpses of once Living beings that will warm our dead inside.
We are nothing but animals, Playing human every day, faking empathy and emotion, Playing God every day, ravaging and killing our host, Beautiful lands left with nothing but corruption.
We are nothing but greed, A broken people cutting their skin with green paper, Pretending this is what true happiness means, Killing each other for the bliss of coins.
Desperately fighting my rotten ego, I pour blood into this empty vessel, the cage of my soul, The core of a virus pretending to live righteously, Yet I know that this version of me is indifferent. A parasite.