You are the world you have created
And when you cease to exist
This world you have created will also cease to exist
But for those with the understanding that they are living the last days of the world
Death aquires a different meaning
The extinction of all reality
Is a concept no registration can encompass
And then all the grand designs and all the grand plan’s
Will be finally exposed and reviled for they are
Death comes to the prey at speed
A silence of an arrow
I never tire of that
To see somone killed with elegance
Is moving to me
The hunter has grace & beauty
And purely of heart
To be found no where else
You can make no destitution between who they are
And that they do
And what we do is kill
But our faintness of heart is what has driven us to the edge
Prehaps you want to create but nothing iis cruelier than a coward
And the slaughter to come is behond our imagining
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