Cold-Blooded

We are under the influence of a glutinous machine
With green shaded eyes and pupils glazed over with dollar signs.
A deteriorated systematic failure of principles
Corrodes the fabric of the American dream

These newfound world leaders sit patiently in contempt of us all,
Convening for fraudulent talks of world peace; there are no terms to these failed negotiations.

The outcome is an untold truth where Blood money is pooled
To front progress towards uninhabitable wastelands.
These artists of destruction unveil their greatest masterpiece,
Painting the sky with bastard glory.

Beams of light pierce through the golden clouds,
There is no beauty to be found in this stunning array of lights and sounds.

The wise man is now in search of fools gold,
But in the wake of nuclear holocaust his wealth is reduced to ash to keep him warm.

“Fuck. Wear your middle finger like a badge of honor; stand up and fight, tear down what's left of this!”

Life is a constant ear-piercing silence which cuts through my thoughts,
Leaving them for a beast who's known by the name: desolation.