Feralmone

Then stay there and please spare us,
but of course you won’t as always,
since what is said is really emptiness,
nothing you truly want kept track of.

You should have caught that long before,
tens of thousands far dead in your past,
pretending that you ain’t lecturing anybody,
obviously free to follow or go to Hell.

I pretty much figured this a while ago,
a rusty chain keeping that matter within,
and one slip sends it all over our clothes,
where we’ll have to change yet again.

People don’t need to beg for your relief,
simply rearrange the same words often,
you too can be just as sorely meaningless,
making sure you put in enough practice.

Exactly my point from your very start,
listening carefully to only be ignored,
can’t examine what you stringently fear,
preaching a sense lost in your mouths.

Rounding our corners and rising from graves,
to settle a vicious score many centuries old,
chopped and dragged above your burial alive,
because we didn’t stop ahead of the festering.