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Unchained Malady

de Slugdge

Cruel weapons of the human bastard
Sprinking death from up on high
Eyestalks recoiling as my slime trail foams
Choking on the crystals in my pneumastome

Bleak.

Inhumane, dessicated and debased
Baking in the scorching sun, their time will come
Mucus glands, bubbling on the concrete slabs
Eaten by domestic cats, but we'll be back

Foolish mortals in the garden lay
Bathing in the shade we wait
Beady eyes emerge, focusing our wrath
Vengeance rides on slimey tracks

Raining acid, caustic downpour on human skulls
Melting flesh from bones

Ruthless minions, revolution in human culls
Venting hatred ages old

And when the dawn of slime comes, they shall reap what they have sown

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