With greater fear, Oh Shivering Dread.
No mad King, no Tyrant brutal,
Made more Hope become so Futile.
No Landlord, with fields most vast,
Taxed their people so aghast.
No Knight nor Prince nor Stately Queen,
Was ever heard, was ever seen,
Whom more was begged of, more was pleaded.
Whom more was cursed, hated, unheeded.
No ruler has yet drawn breath,
More feared than Her, The Lady Death!
What Emperor can men extol,
More than She, who owns your soul?
What earthly realm can claim more lands,
Than all the world within Her hands?
What Kingly vaults more treasure hold,
Than that of graves, and tombs untold?!
What feast feeds more by any terms,
Than feast for crows, flies, rats, and worms!?
What force of men can wield more might,
Than ev’ry ghost and ghoul of night?!
What King could possibly possess more power,
Than Her, The Ever-Undying Black Flower!?
What Mortal Ruler could ever compare?
None I claim. None I declare!
Your Throne is nothing but a chair,
Your Crown cheap bauble that you wear!
You rule Nothing, No-one, Nowhere!
All men serve My Lady fair,
Her, Ash skinned and Black of hair.
Into Her eyes all men must stare.
Farmer, Merchant, Priest, Corsair.
Not one thread escapes the Snare.
No mighty King or humble Hare.
All your works will be laid bare,
Every Triumph, every Err.
Your deepest Love, tawdry affair.
Your greatest Speech, but empty air.
Your skeleton will grow threadbare,
Within your Grave, with no fanfare.
As every Promise you Forswear!
No Life lived could at all prepare,
Man for the moment He is made aware,
Nothing you’ve done, here nor there,
Nothing you build, destroy, repair,
Will make My Lady you Death spare.
You clasp your hands ‘round blessed neckwear,
And In Despair you turn to Prayer,
You weep, you blare, “Unfair! Unfair!”
“Brave I was, during Warfare.”
“Honest I was, working plowshare.”
To you I say, “You Dare? You Dare?!”
No man denies My Lady fair,
The Lady Death, Empress Nightmare!
You were warned, told to Beware,
Of all the dangers Life is heir.
You knew that Life and Death’s a pair,
And of them both, you had your share.
By The Lady Death, of that I swear...
Now Go! Oblivion awaits.
Go now through those Stygian gates.
Walk there of your own accord,
Or be dragged along, “Mi’Lord”.
The one thing no man can refuse,
The one thing no man may ever choose.
The voice of My Lady always rings true,
And by Her command you will go through!
Be grateful My Lady is the last thing you see,
For indescribable Beauty is She.