these eyes that speak everything you want to feel...

they aren't real ...

 making this victory you fought so hard to gain your burden.

So what became of the victor?

He faltered to the level of the pigs he used to slaughter.

Just finer cattle,

Something that tastes better,

so choice cuts of living flesh can become the new savior.

A circle circled in in blood

circled in memories

circled in dreams....

There is no winner,

no savior,

no God...

just a useful idea...

We are all pigs in the end...