Map Of Scars

The meek inherit nothing they deserve not our virtue
They shall not behold the spoils they sustain us
Surround me with their broken bones cut out
Their tongues to silence the judgement

A needle in the spine for every futile breath they take
Cringing in abject slavish fear, they bleed like pigs
Abyssal hunger, predator among the flock
Their cries of pain fetched me, no flesh would be spared

I mapped their scars
And read our fortune in their entrails
I taste the blood on the lips of the dead
Waiting for the echoes of their screams
Cringing in abject slavish fear
They crawl to me on crippled limbs
And feed me with their suffering