I am writing your story in
chisel and stone,the ending
to me is even unknown.

Do I let you go after my
destruction against your
being,my beatings to your
mind and soul should be
enough for my feeding.

The grim reaper is begging
me for my prize!I see his
lust for your death through
the eyes of clear black coal
he has never owned a soul so
he is selfish and cold!

He scorns me with his morbid
mind,he thinks he has shaken
me with his malignancy nature.
He has forgotten the devil has
blessed me with his grace,I will
even tear the reaper to shreds!
Even he can find doom among the
dead!

I have decided to let your now
dismembered body slither away
from me!I am writing a story in
chisel and stone of me and the
reaper,he thought I would run
and hide from him!He has forgotten
I was born and bread from sin!

His story will come to an end,I
will play no games with him!I
now thirst his venom,I have once
again come undone!I keep saying
do not dare me,I am not the one
who will shudder and run in fear!
Now in my eyes he will see my Lear!
I happily smell his fear!