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Tribune

We cannot be stopped from changing who we are
An aberrant liberation
In a state decaying
We are those who choose to lose

Unfolding of a vision
A convenient form of disguise
Laying siege to others like a killer
It appeals to the subconscious mind

Grinding bodies under foot
And raising them as dead
Don't waste your life on me
Cause I don't want to destroy you

But I will below the landslide

Below
They're running amok
In utter bliss
We give not a thought to this
As accepting a medium as was ever used
A fertile plot

Below the landslide
Villages swept away
Peasants die
A fitting celebration of things gone awry
The blow

Comes in fast, delivering it's kiss
The irony is not missed
The thing about us not to misconstrue is that we self-destruct