---

End

You may think you're above me

I only see the face of filth once claimed to be

The vomit lies

the natural urge to feed Consumes what little sanity

I can't stop sleeping in my own piss

Awake to the relief

I won't stop feeding on my own king

The name that i've been given will disturb the pigs

Every time I feed another one dies

Every time I breed you are closer

To the irrational thought

You may ask, in your wonders, where it began

Though forgotten and sign of a cure yet

The plague spreads

Unwilling souls will meet an end

The waste you rip from your empty shell is now nourishment for me

The day has come

From your filth I rise to slaughter the weak

Slaughter the weak