In Pestilence Majesty

To consecrate longevity of meaningless
Life as a prince above all
To assuage suffering, all famine
Diseases and glorious war
That all life may endure
Their bequest of fucking doom
At the cost of prudence and reason
All this is a crime, more vile than rape
Than murder, incest, who blush
At its sight

To weep for the salvage of human flesh
As an ideal you consider
Worth my strength
To cry for the hand of reason
To toil against another's demise
Would their ruin soar

May a thousand diseases plague your kin
May sweet poverty famine
And death lay siege
May the sky rain a black deluge of blood
On your morbid vanity, your hubris

The world serpent shakes his mighty tail
Preparing a feast of joy to reason
In his malignant strength
You find but pestilence
I, majesty

Delegating poverty to the pages
Of a past you adjure to come
To dream of freedom from
Global disease and blight
All this is a consummate
Sickness of the mind
More dreadful in itself than genocide
You will not be rescued
Nor helped by these hands
Would that you all perish
And the floods ever rise