![]() ![]() Missions reign and demonize, such "savage wastes of flesh", sold for wages or left for dead. This is what you ignore: an unspoken moralized war.Īs our world runs to shit: for thirteen fucking days. This is what you ignore: this selfishly driven urge.Īs the Amazon runs to shit: for thirteen fucking days. Surviving millenniums fighting off the sedentary, just to retain their own primal ways.įor Exxon, for BP, for this American dream.Ĭivilization, annihilation: while it fights from its knees. Here stand, the Huaorani, our fates intertwined. The price of their small victory is the greatest threat of what we were born to be: re-emerged with our ancestry.Ī blind complicity: inflicted wounds without relief.īut there, are those, who cannot ignore this wholesale reduction of our animality. They see no end in sight, to their system or their greed. They raise their toast to, their own mass profit gains. They've built the stockyards of their dreams.Ĭonsumable fodder for their biological killing machine. Selective breeding, ecological grieving: the wildness bears our scars.įorced breeding, captive living: reduced to the sum of all parts. Selective breeding, prolonged needing: genetically deformed for a thickened herd. Never had such a decision put so much at stake: the surrender of our adaptivity. ![]() This war will not change, this war will not end: soil will spill. This war will not change, this war will not end: oil will spill. This war will not change, this war will not end: blood will spill. In the middle East, the forests of the Americas, in the deserts, the plains and the seas: time and place, it happens again: civilization has blood on its hands. To conquer and grow, to plunder and pillage: feed the needs that are created. ![]() Once we are removed, everything else becomes a resource. The border fences, blocked migratory paths: a cancerous growth, the cyclical pattern.Īgriculture: carved up lands, communities. ![]() Warfare is a contrived response to a created dependency.ĭomestication, subjugation, sedentism, civil delusions: breeding a society built beyond its means.īlood soaked lies, a reinforced sedentary demand for reliable control. They need us to believe: that we need their control. Now I've shed all their lies, all the wounded lives set aside.Īnd now my, only prayer is for a life returned to the eternal wild. The gods of sun, the gods of seed, the gods of soil, the gods of oil: the desert patriarch, the hungry priests, the hanging martyr, sustained disbelief.Įmpty stomachs, fill these empty skies, with false promises given by the hand that feeds. Till their plow, till their sword, and now our soul lies amputated. The wildness, the breath of the forest: intertwined, through all the lives. Outstretched arms are what remains, of peoples once connected with the living spirit. The shit-zone of global technocracy: their blood covers our hands. It comes through your TV, and to the foods you eat. This world that we've bought, this is our legacy. This world that we've made, grown beyond capacity. This is what we've become, blind to consequence. This is what we've become, an empire of slaves. This blood thirsty cannibal spreads its disease.Īn imperial wound across the southern hemisphere: an eternal frontier, empires in need.īecause your modernity, is built upon graves. Shackled limbs, piles of hands, scorched earth decay: another kingdom for Europe. It's stumbling, bloated, dying body, throws itself into the sea.Ĭolonial dreams of conquest complete, bleeding the Earth of everything.Ĭommunities torn and bodies enslaved, souls stolen by missionaries.Ĭonquered, decimated, "liberated" their told, and the cycle is set to repeat. Until we realize, that the grid is the enemy. It carries on, because we believe, that we are more than, cogs in this machine. The iron lung, a smoking gun, a sealed fate: until we pull the plug. This logic immortalized: for this air conditioned nightmare.Ĭomprised of slaves to power: it may change faces but it still remains the same. It adds up, as she succumbs to this machine. The chemo failed her, for the second time around.Īn unshaken faith, as she asks, "why me?" But across the world, it's the same story.Īssembling components, where there was once a village. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |