Prose Of Death

<p>What makes us unique Are we developed? Are we more evolved? A sense of false improvement</p><p>Where no one cares for the next Where no one cleans up the mess Where no one gives a fuck Where we all run out luck What makes us all is what we have? Are we less callous? Are we less jealous? This lingering prose of death Where no one cares for the next Where no one cleans up the mess Where no one gives a fuck Where we all run out luck</p>