"Might a tempest relieve me of sound and sight.

Might I unearth the hatchet and put it to proper use.

My hand is poised and in fury.

Only thunder gives me rest

Dare me to Breathe, when I can't catch my breath, Sway my tempers balance."

And that’s where you left us, skin melting, face down in those ditches, inhaling mud. Let it be bliss. Let it be a malfunction. Hanging from the meat hooks of evolution, here’s where we reside. A statement with no validity or meaning, wrapped in sugar coated terminology just to appease our own lust for inhumanity. Your fists are all still in the air. The sky is raining shrapnel and feeding us our own intestines. As I choke and spit the blood that is now caked to this coat, I gasp, “we will all see the will of truth upon us.” Leave skin hanging from the reeds in the mire. And the sun sets to empty lungs and quiet tongues. Man is the pawn.

The Great Worm...Shai Hulud. We will all learn that we have judged ourselves from the onset of our existence. Why should the end be any different?