Death Metal

We look like
The sore that lingers on your skin

The stone in the shoe
That embeds
Itself
In your feet
The necrosis that slowly spreads  
Infesting
Whatever is in our path

We look like huge vessels
Empty and imperfect
That yearn to fill their interior
With a non-existent light
We have been banished from
The beginning by our origin
We were abandoned to our fate
And in spite of that
They point the finger at us and blame us
For the way things are

Personalities and thoughts possess infinite shapes,
But the right bullets are put into the chamber of common sense.

That the bullets from your mouth,
Won’t bounce later to your head

Aim to the ignorant with certainty and cunning,

A shot absent of precision
Will give them a chance to become the target.
The way of thinking has lost freedom,
And even the absurd minds, full of power and attention
Will persuade the masses
To be filled with reason, even being false.