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C.o.r.e.
We are the cogs of an evil engine
We twist and grind the greasy darkness
Within a maze of steel and stone
We turn incessantly
Underneath a rusted frame
Jagged, brown and slightly bent;
The weight of an institution
We are the rivets, the bolts,
The cuffs;
We bind you to our
Apparatus
With nameless numbers,
razor wire,
A labyrinth of concrete walls
Hear...
Hear the rumble
The endless din of our machine
The noise that measures out
Destruction
To silent,
Shattered souls
Of men
poem
by
Blood Red Angel
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