We are the hate that hate created
Eviscerated by a novel disease
The chosen few amass in darkness
Shrouded for moments from the impending plague
Discordant howls pierce the void
as they feast on the remains of their young
With no messiah to light the way to salvation
An alien frost snuffs out the landscape
Survival depends on the death of the other
An iron will prevails among the ruthless ones
Persistence secured by the flash of the blade
Existence is brutish and short once again
Reduced to a feral barbaric state
The nadir has been reached at last
With the remnants o...
Wretched Host: 8. Nadir
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