The World of Filth

A blur of faces chasing hollow prizes,
The bitter crack of love that turned to lies,
The muffled echo of old birds’ surprises,
And innocence in blood that slowly dies.

A rotten thought seeps deep into the spirit,
The war of worlds, of hearts, of human greed.
The shells and bombs—the world is broken, hear it,
For chosen leaders and the lives they lead.

Empty dreams beg to be undone.
One dumb act, and you’re life’s pawn.
A coin is tossed to beggars thin—
When every soul’s a misanthrope within.

Mysterious the depths of boredom’s power—
Sheer idleness will strike you to the core.
We raise our hands and cheer within the hour,
For cheap-rate hucksters and the lies we adore.

The tomb-like gaze of bodies worn and broken,
The balding words, a knife-thrust to the side.
The morons drift, with work to be unspoken,
But luck has always been the idiot’s guide.

Fate’s favorite toy, a tattered name
Blown ragged by the wind’s cold flame.
Prophets of trash fill every street,
Singing hymns to garbage bins they meet.

We kiss the ladies in their rotten hollows,
To spread their legs is but a simple play.
And Adam’s dough is kneaded in the wallows,
By random men and women, cast in clay.

We love at first, then spit upon the feeling,
First with the groin, and only then the mind.
Then stupidly, we leave the senses reeling,
And call the past the filth we left behind.

The soul bares teeth in hollow gaps.
Hot in bed, but slack in traps.
Now only whores get honor’s toast...
Think hard, friend—what matters most?

The rain lashed down, with fury ever growing,
To wash the filth from off the Earth’s dark face.
But dirtier still the wicked world was flowing,
As humans stained and blackened every place.