Death, be not proud of thyself
For thou art cursed amongst men
For thou hath devoured the life of many
Many men of solemn and august
and yet, thou exult the men of smut and perversity
Death, be not proud of thyself
For the days of darkness shalt strike thy insolence
For I shalt not be weary of thee
And thou shalt not be feared
For even thou shalt meet thy trumpet of doom
The time shalt come for when I shalt defy thee
I shalt march through the Kingdom of Heaven
and I shalt contemn thee
For I will no longer be bounded by thy fate
And I shalt be free
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