The Sons of Bitch Twitch of Hate

Nuclear explosion

 

Pseudomatic cerebrations erupting out of predatory nations

Slickly switch the bitchy mixtures into feature communications

Meaningless of intellect to direct select indications for correct

Destinations into bludgeoned violence, into blood without introspect.

 

The gut of glut ambition evokes emotion, the visceral delight of might

Bereft of insight, no thought of incident entanglement, simplicity of blight

Within a mindless night blind to elementary cautions of monstrous proportions

So the gentle gestures of flesh unto flesh digress, raised into horrific distortions.

 

What end would, perhaps, mend the twisted temperaments outside of obliteration?

How to purify what pollutes the very sky, rips angry death from greedy altercation?

Is it integral that woven into very entrails the snarls of explosive hate explode to devastate?

Or can the acid turn to burn away itself in cure to innocence and sanity and final celebrate?

 

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