Stench and decay should be the only thing we sense
But hidden in the dark and erased from our heads
Barbarity and slaughter are everywhere
A contemptible ethic, a relict
For the weakest of the weak
For the lowest of the low
My voice for the voiceless
My fists for the innocent
On the edge of a new age this is still our dogma
No grave for millions - tortured creatures,
But a common grave for our morals
This slaughter - an ethic I deny
An archaic way of thinking, so monstrous and absurd
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