Behold Weeds too tall Flourishing Blocking the sun With roots above Our broken stems Throttled, scorned I feel the weight of their polished heel Affluent predators Stalking in comfort, silent Grinding their teeth, golden rot Affluent predators They camouflage with tanned flesh Shearing wool, searing gore The pasture's rotting Yet we still graze As cattle, pining For a larger cage With gristle fraying And shattered joints As sacrifices They will exploit Emaciated pith The endless hunger A life devoid The wage of sorrow Paid in bone Their broken dogma Burned in our skulls We are the Scythe They reap what is sown Unconscious submission We worship the shrouded crown