Blissful subjugation, it follows intently before a heart wrenching blackout. The iron hat brings forth misery, its made to plunder and erase the rivals in its wake. Blunt force, as it hits the mouth of the crowds that beg for the life that these mongrels once called a utopia of promises. It doesn’t know goodness, for a man cannot bare fruit without tending to his own fields first. The knuckles of the society bleed, the whips give no relief. For this is the world they asked for, it is the world they created out of decadents.
Contributor- Chris Ballenger