Pallid and cold skin
Judging those in which resides darkest sin
Eyes of the purest jet
Lifeless, and there I met,

The face of my own misdeeds
A place in which to darkness, light concedes
Death is natural as they know...
They however did not chance
To see what lies below.

Polished, eerie, and sightless expanse
Skulls mark its ever steady advance
Creeping, crawling, tepid and ever-stalling
The beat of man's heart

Life and this, never far apart
From one to the next
It still leaves me perplexed...
To know one last beat
Here, and now we meet.

Regal now he stands
My very strength flees my hands...
A formless throne, carved of the oldest stone
My fate, here, I face it alone.

Master, King, of all laid before
In squalid splendor he reigns
Duty binds just as heavy as chains
We his subjects, our lord we abhor

Fallen not to rise,
Resting now on that cold stone
A skull, empty I stare without eyes
Ever present, Death waits on his throne.