Death in Bloom

I feel the cracks in the earth beneath my feet, and the ash in the air as it fills my lungs.
I reach outwards in desperation to no avail - I am the origin of disease.

A plague born from incessant consumption,
No antidote, no cure, no treatment.
This is manufactured hell on Earth,
Infecting everything in its wake.
The tree of life is rendered inert, the roots are corrupted, the branches desiccated, wilting away.

Death in bloom.
Death in bloom.

The skin flakes away and pollinates everything within reach, the contaminant can not be contained.
As this vessel bursts forth and spews upon the land a curse of vile intent.
Mother nature has made me her messenger, and by my hand you'll die the same.
Our final breaths choked out of us.

The memories of the lives we knew will fade into nothingness.
A necessary evil, purging the human curse from this world.

Choking on greed, asphyxiated, smothered by the hands of time, suffocating and slipping away.
Lost in the static, such is the price we pay.
Is life and death so black and white?

Death in bloom, we can't be saved.
The Earth is doomed, we can't be saved.
Death in bloom.

Within the confines of these walls I have finally found my peace as I lay my head to rest for the very last time.

Now as this prison of flesh to which I'm bound disintegrates I reject mortality.