This world is a cemetery. Often I visit my plot
And listen to the winds ripe with trichloroethylene
This stagnant "air". Sometimes it speaks to me
Tells me of damnation. Rightly just and on the horizon
Knee-deep in a concentrated stockpile of manufactured scraps foretelling human downfall
Grisly. Obscene. Toxic. Motherf**ing desert
Sifting through the ghosts of human consumerism
I find myself searching for body parts to add to my collection
A hand. A finger. A leg. A head
The dead sometimes reside alone at the landfill
This is forever. Time now an enemy
Humans are forever failures...
The children wade in the leachate
Diseases - man made and carried on through the DNA
Of our future to which we're slaves
The world as a trash heap where we bury the past
We try not to ponder the fact that our detestable actions will forever last
Ethylene dibromide, methane and carbon dioxide
Slowly dissolving human body parts reside in the excess
Knee-deep in a never ending stockpile of manufactured trash reminiscing human existence
Among the fermenting stench is the fallout of humanity
A virulent force of pa**ive destruction
Harbinger of perdition, herald to pandemonium
In our own contamination we are forced to drown
Hideous. Shameless. Toxicant. Goddamned desolate