E1M
I love gemstones.
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Sitting by the wrack, as was then called the bench.  And the vision, beauty on the killing machine, once transport, and under the wheels, lives crushed, willingly.  But no, beauty had not taken these lives, for they, as they were made for the kill, had no life.  But, only form that the dying did behold.  First they were being artistic, as drunken and stoned they grew.  But then came the division, as if the willing hadn't knew.
As the doers and seers,
And those to be in the way,
Brought on the juggernaut,
One hell of a play.
And screaming punks who lean on walls,
Will scream some more to fill in holes.
And them's just ho's will laugh aloud,
"It's ragnarok to possess these souls!"
And isn't that the way you know,
Pretty old whores that like to pose.

When Juggernaut falls, I'll drink some beers and howl some calls.  My God.  My God.  I'll watch it all.
And fall,
And fall,
And fall,
And fall.
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