Terminus - Trigger the Bloodshed

Genuflected, with misty pallid eyes, a procession of survivors invoke

Their own euthanistic last rites, the postulation of eternal rest unscathing

In a benevolent subhuman conduct, they leave themselves hung as a warning

Our future if now, our future is never, our future is dead

Paralytic, suspended in the harsh winds above the once soaring edifices,

now razed

The remains floating in a hadean paradise, laying in the once fecund soil

The foundations that bore the weight of a past assiduous mankind

Could not support that which we became, an industrial biotic machine

Crushing all mother nature has sheltered from us, drawing on

Everything she found strength for

Pulling the fear of God into humanity, oppressing the ever broadening populace

With her metaphysical cataclysms

Our future is now, our future is never, our future is dead

The aeon of recession has stricken

And will reduce mankind to mourning

Torching stramping, drowning, asphyxiating

And humanities mindless abolishment, a force has been bred

Rapidly escalating, enveloping us, carnivorously putting itself to perpetual end

Merciless is the lord reigning in his sky

Watching as humanity scrapes its way to die

The scornful eye of providence fucks us into ill being

Expatriated into hate from a balanced state of pity

The last remaining city will be immolated

Our future is now, our future is never, our future is dead