Faith.

Those nights we lived through – seem like a dream now,
Life is far too grotesque to render that reality,
The definition is far too low, resolution distorted like shattered glass,
My eyes could vomit out the seas; you unsowed them with your avarice.
Die on your knees. For this damnation, is not one which I laid upon you,
No, it is one that you created yourself – out of the bones of your beloved,
I merely assembled them – you were the dissector.

We shall weep for the day that you spawn offspring,
Souls begotten in an alcohol saturated womb,  
Do you have no pity for the weak? For this land shall be their tomb.
I would not wish death upon you – you have yet to see what you have created,
The malice that you birthed is seconded by none,
For this world that you raped, is seconded only by one.
The reality in my mind – which shall be your resting place,
When you are nothing more than a memory.