I serve as a warning
To the boldly self righteous
To the ignorant lazy decay
Appointed by thunder
Anointed by lightning
And cleansed by torrential tears rain
You who are nothing who
Claim to be something
To whom that nothing returns
Stand up and be counted
The numbers are rounded
And all that you covet will burn
Your brush with the Reaper
Of chilling death's fever
Corrects my posture and stance
Confined to my duty
Stripped of my beauty
Your entire world is mine
With a glance
Come now envision
My vicious precision
A moment before your last breath
For the hypocrite fools
Who dismissed the Grande Dame"s rules
The sentence is a fate worse
Than death
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