New Testament

Give me a favour, give me a fever
Give me a shot from the river of fear,
Waters of Styx do never taste vile –
Ancient VX, give it to me while
Free as a whale roaming the Ocean
I’ll taste first portion of your deadly potion.
Death is becoming a matter of deed,
Pale steed at the plow – so welcome the seed!

Hurry to sow, to plough and mow,
Reaper’s not grim to the harvest he’s grown.
Give me a second drink from your flask,
Try not to think of the matters and tasks –
Think of the tusks, for the Grey Wolf is near,
Chasing my life like a roe or a deer.
Death for the bravest, life for the rest,
All the King’s men, its time to go West!

Give me a third shot, its time to drink poison
Putting the lights off, extinguishing noises,
Shutting the door on this sick little world –
Made with a word, be it killed by a word.
“God” was the first, “shit” would be the second,
Sorry, no Bible to put it on record,
Bible has ended, the War has begun –
Death for the strongest, behold and begone!