The Royal We

Physically minuscule with enough hate to poison the world. With dagger in hand we cut through the floor to the soil the floor turns into ash and floats to the ceiling leaving the would on the floor. The soil is black and moist and the impressions of our hands fill with water. We whimper in hatred. We state if they so much as touch you even in the slightest no matter where the walk we will find them, no matter how fast they run we will catch them. No matter where they hide we'll get them. We've gone and done what no ones done before. Cut off all strings to the social and found comfort in the hatred in nature. The nature that wants man kind dead for its filthy treatment it's given us. We will bring in the flesh of those we hate and gain the power of the world. We will revive what they destroyed. The solitude, the hate, the abuse; they never cared for us anyways. We took it all in and became what beast stands here today. When we touch anything bloody hand prints are left a stain. When we walk no sound is made. When we talk we whisper into your soul and rip into you like no other. We are not to be persuaded. We will not pity. Take no prisoners. If we never loved you you don't stand a chance. Prepare yourself. We will give you a day, but once it is finished prepared to be slayed.