At the end of the world,
Under magmatic skies,
A place I see in my fevered dreams,
Only one thing still walks the wastes,
Man had become a monster,
A titan of flesh and bone,
An amalgamated frankenstein of the populace,
Eight billion bodies bound together,
Making up muscles of great scale,
Still trying to reach out,
Still crying out in discord,
Each step was met with cracks and tearing,
Bone organ and ligament,
Agony fuelling each movement,
Humanity had finally become what it deserved,
A collosal corpse,
Its transit was a cacophony of pain,
Even under the distant rumbles of its tread,
I could still hear the wailing.
