The Harvest

The Imperial Betrayer

The harvest is painful, heavy and dirty.
Weak seed, does that. Is its function.
Opened doors, does not convince.
Much less blood.
FUCKING HARVEST!!!
Don't have calluses on hands
Hungry eyes, and hatred in the heart
SHIT!
SCREAM! Stop ... SCREAM louder!
Beside the doubt, find conviction.
Coexistence of pigs, applause and destruction.
Colonels are defeated in this land without sun.
Night, cold and gray, there is no more light.
False harvest again;
Give it up, change your plan
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