>>99575480In One Hundred Acre Wood
Our friends are not in the mood.
Swept under the carpet of Winter is our hope
The moral and food ratio went down the slope.
Frozen tears hit the glass
They bring starvation en masse
Assimilation is scrapped from their mind
Annihilated will be their kind
Black hour hits the timeline
Mother will be put to the trial
To preserve the blood for the next generation
One must survive to reach preservation
The weakest has been chosen
The dominant must be proven
Barbarian instinct hits her organism
Wild temper breaks stoicism
She can't be stopped; not with remorse
Hounds fulfilled with tears and brute force
Humanity is gored and raped
Cannibalism is her only escape
Know your race
Know your place
