A Scream to Express the Hate of a Race

Scattering ashes and dust from it's burnt hands,
 The headless flock crawls, growls and moans.
 For beheaded at birth and disheartened by the pathless infinities of stars,
 The weak in spirit collapsed at the death of their god.
 A scream to express the hate of a race...
 Purify the children and kill the usurped genitors
 Occulted from the transcendental state.
 Praise the incestuous habits of the pure bloods of power
 Gathering the whitest Egos of this world.
 A scream to express the hate of a race...
 The dead eyes and the vultures gather around the rotting sepulchre of the past
 Overflowing with the corpses of moral, social, religious and scientific creations.
 But as long as these remains will not be fully consumed, the air will not be pure
 And the deep Egos will suffocate.
 Behold the inferior blood flow.
 Feel the inner hatred grow.
 Oh, such private feelings
 Cherished within the heart of my disgusted being.
 "Genocide! Hear my call for genocide!"
 Read the fury written within the blood red trails
 Rolling on my cheeks
 And behold the rage carved on my sins,
 Cursing the living.
 Desecrate the dead inheritance,
 Blindfold acceptance.
 Tear your eyelids and see the sun,
 The light of the damned.
 A scream to express the hate of a race...
 A will strong as iron and waves of blood
 Will now be needed
 To bring back some solace onto our ground
 Among the dying.
 A new earth has to be found
 In order to re-
 Create a powerful humanity
 Able to breathe and see.
 A scream to express the hate of a race...
 A scream to express the hate of a race that lost itself
 Within the entrails of the sound of it's echoing steps.
 Going to nowhere, from nowhere, till nowhere,
 The vultures gather; their feathers are the fathers of...
 A plague that the carriers of dust invoked
 Has been unleashed on the serene civilization.
 It is now time for the pure to awake and act
 For the sands are spreading.
 A scream to express the hate of a race that lost itself
 Within the entrails of the sound of it's echoing steps.
 Going to nowhere, from nowhere, till nowhere,
 The vultures gather; their feathers are the fathers of...
 ... Nihilism