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The life of a bodyFive days after I was born, the new life in my lungs was still there, unlike in my brothers before me who didn't make it this far. I was the one that had crawled the furthest into the world out of my parents flawed gene pool. Maybe I was strong; maybe I was lucky. Or, as is usually the case, maybe a little of both.Twenty years after I was born, high-explosive locomotive blood pumped through my body, driven by a 1000 hp, 500 mpg heart. I was unstoppable, untiring, unquenched. I was a volcano gone supernova.Thirty years after I was born, a man cut me open with a knife and touched my offal with a gloved hand. He sliced a bit of my insides off and sewed his cuts up. But you know what? I wasnt dented, only a little scratched. I was still unstoppable.Thirty five years after I was born, my body told me something. It said it was time to let the younger men run faster and go further.
The MeansI killed a man and ate his liver to entertain you.I blinded a rabbit to make my shampoo gentle on your eyes.I tortured a man and degraded him to obtain useful information.I killed a foetus so I wouldn't have to raise a child.I took children away from their mothers to give them a better life.I killed a man to punish him for killing a man.I destroyed a city and its innocent inhabitants to end a war.I nailed a man to a cross to protect our way of life.But now I wonder...Do the ends justify the means,or are the means an end unto themselves?
Sucking darkest clearSuck your life through filter tips,Needle forced between your lips.Suck your lungs to ashen crisp,Life burnt to a smoky wisp.Pile of ash where life had been,Money bags are lined with green.They don't care, they want their cut,Next life please, discard your butt.