The Hordes

The Hordes

I stand my ground, will not be found

Evil flies to kill to reach the ground

Rotten through, irrational is belief

Blind to humanness, death is their relief

Altruism the ethic of self-sacrifice, evil concretely

No mind, no soul, but matter physically absolutely

Their father is Luther, their kin from Wodin

Deaths Head of 88 their standard of extermination

Their happiness heard is to hear blood cry out

Cost of no consequence, emotion’s rout

Chains on their children, mother their whore

Screams of hate threatening from their core

Traitors to humanity without morality

Only death exploded gratification their sexuality

Frustrated by the minds of Jacob’s children

Shaking with hate to witness mercy undeserved in this conflagration