Stand over me , lying in this bed
like gathering around a freshly dug grave
indifferent of my life, I am not yet dead
Am I but a sacrifice? The unuseful slave?

Form the circle, Familial Tie
Me, the stuffed pig a feast on a table
Too ready to feed, please wait for me to die
Can you? Are you but cannibals?

Look forward to positions high on that hill
Dine on my weakness, Your favored flesh
On the surface you smile, blank eyed as you kill
You will wander seeming alive, choked with regret.

I've heard tell that you reap what you sow
see the barren fields in which you play
pulling at wicked weeds, naught but rot bestowed
You are among Shades, damnations unlit way.

You tell yourselves it's for the best
but who are the best for which this you would do?
In line with the "faithfull", wear the devil's crest
A rose is a rose no matter the vase you choose.