Hooks pierced through soft cheeks,
coaxing blood droplets like beads of cold honey.
Teeth scattering the damp forest floor,
a porcelain testament to bones and dead eyes
for the frozen lamb corpse alone in a white field;
the martyr to human malice.  
An empty fortress silently standing on the edge of the world,
a towering sentinel of human worthlessness. 
Then, Nature laments; a breath of cold air passing unnoticed,
embodied as white fog rolling over an ashen landscape.
In the snow, a gauze of pallid flesh hangs from barbed wire;
a lone eulogy left behind from the passing of existence.

Above all, Svn-Okklt is anti-human.

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