Look in the eyes of a superior kind, feeling the jealousy drip from your chin. Feeling your envies flood for the taste of supremacys churning blood. A primitive force with which we control, a gift devine, by which we are bound. TO HAVE WHAT WE HAVE, YOU WOULD DIE! And to see what we see with our burning red eyes. To be one of us is something you wish you could dream of. No way to end us! with centuries carved in our hearts. To know our minds would be a lesson from you know who we are, were everywhere and we control your fucking minds!
devine, chin, control, churning, feeling