Slaughtered reality
What remains
Dying race of slaves
Brought to their knees
Bearing their necksfor the slaughterman
Waiting on the threshold of tomorrow

But still you try
To no avail
To escape your fate

Constantly the wheels are turning
Grinding your mind into dust
Existing only to serve the masters
Who cast you aside with an undifferent glance
Forevermore to serve them

Weapon be thy name