The first gasp's a wet cough, choked on a piss-stained shroud, Pushed from a festering hole, into their sneering, fucking crowd. No worth in this damned flesh, just squirming, maggot-ridden blight, Born to be consumed, then vanish in the endless night. They marked us from the womb, a barcode on our skin, Disposable, decaying cattle, drowned in original sin. We're nothing but the garbage, scraped from their gilded shoe, A fetid, pulsing biomass, for their cold, corporate queue. Their promises? Just mucus, from mouths that spit out lies, While algorithms chart our rot, beneath their dead, unblinking eyes. Our "purpose"? To be broken, then rendered down to paste, Every tear a fucking dollar, no moment goes to waste. The news is pure contagion, a virus in the brain, While parasites in suits, gorge on our collective pain. We're ghosts of fucking nothing, our agony their feast, Just refuse in their vision, the lowest, vilest beast. No god, no hope, no fucking point, in this pathetic crawl, Just the cold, hard, certain darkness, waiting for us all. They sucked our marrow dry, for their insatiable maw, Then tossed us in the decaying pit, beyond their fucking law. The echoes of their laughter, a vile, triumphant sound, As our withered husks decay, on this godforsaken ground. We are the walking carrion, from the void they spewed us in, No fucking worth, no meaning, just the triumph of their sin.
