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My hate for you doth rot my soul,
I seek a worthier enemy.
You are not fit to be my foe,
But still your deeds disturb my wandering.
I banish weakness from my mind,
Begging me to Pity's feign.
As your mouldering banner and your horde,
Refuses to be swept away.
Hostis Humani Generis

Misdirected toxic fool,
Some underdogs deserve their fate.
No-one needs such sham protection,
From a barbarian inside the gates.
Homo Sacer, I'll fight with none but thee.

So much wasted breath,
Indefensible debated screed.
Ceasing ever outward progress,
To die in churned up bloody fields.

Any excuse to feel hate's grip.
The festering egos of the bought and sold.
Lemmings driven before your lords,
Your outrage flows as slick as gold.

Again, you return to grind your axe,
Seeking enemies to slay.
War and greed, the shackles at our feet,
The arrows of the smallest minds,
Strike only the unique or marginalised.
O but how the world could be,
If the archers could perceive the crime.

Context now a whispered hush,
Perspective drowned in grasping hands.
We'd be casting out for stars,
If not for your self-entitled excess mass.

Instead, you nestle at the feet,
Of a master you can't please.
A starving hound gnaws at it's lead,
Hostis humani generis,
Hastening our fall.
Hostis humani generis,
Enemy of all.

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