Varghest

The sun beats down, grazing grass with fire
The flocks and murders of crows feel only turmoil
The flames and blaze grow only ever higher
The pigs of the land wrap themselves into a pitiful coil
If only we were not long dead, we’d hear the chanting choir
And we would smell the scent of charring, scorching oil
Formations of hell and demons from the glowing oceanspire
We soon realize, even after death and suffering, never to disembroil
So fierce the seas will boil.
-
One eye is enough to see what you’ve wrought upon us.
Desperation drives me to find the deceptive bliss you led me to behold.
You forged us for your own gain, and for this we all pay.
You will never experience the taste of our forgiveness.
Retribution is something you will soon see.