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Faceless submission,

Without a thought that

Anything could be different

Ugly hypocrites

Year by year rearing embryo

Of system within

Disdaining your opinion

Everything is decided for you

Slaves of the machine

That decides your destiny

The aim of birth is death

Only years separate them

From the cunt to the grave

Do you consider yourself a necessity?

Must you do something useful?

What are you living for?

Why?

Wasting years in search

For primitive existence

Millions after millions

Walk the same path

Breeding the spawn

Conception with a transmission

Of the affected genes

Intrauterine infection

With the stupidity

The only useful thing you

Could do in this life –

Is to kill yourself