Some hatred of the earth. The earth itself. And the foulness of the earth. And the stench of the earth. Of the corruption of the earth. And all the corrupt things that lie in the earth. All the destroyed things. All the killed things. The reign of murder.
And nothing watching over us. And nothing caring about us.
And all of us in the pit, and sinking into the pit. Into the fucking mire.
And death is the law – not love. And murder is the law.
And chaos, returning. And screaming, returning. And the dying crawl over the dying. And the dead lay upon the dead and upon the dead.
And it’s senseless. It’s mockery. And nothing good will be done.
And there’s nothing but war, but they want war. Perpetual war. Because that’s what they want.
And the world is war. Them against us. And the war won’t stop until the world stops.
It’s a holy war. It’s them versus us. The predators. The tapeworms. The parasites. The bloodsuckers. Who don’t need us anymore. Or who don’t need very many of us.
And the poisoning is just a new phase of the war. A new kind of warfare. We know what they’re about. We know there are too many of us, according to them.
Can’t you feel the hatred? Their hatred? Can’t you see their fangs, dripping poison. Can’t you hear their lies? Their cover. Their alibis.
Work in Progress 