Dry have the rivers of virtue run,
As the pestilence of negligence consumes.
A growing sore on the face of humanity,
But surgery is only temporary, open wounds becomes infected.
Idealism has grown malignant,
Like immortality and the preservation of self.
Bloodlines are turned to hubris
Detachment from humanity in exchange for a flourishing opulence.
Diffusion of such ideals a virus excelling.
Society festers, sick with aspirations of individualism.
Cesspool is our habitat, destruction our niche.
Awaken the age of becoming the cockroach.
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