I am Emperor. I am Death.
All ye who challenge my reign over kingdom and kin
know not the true consequence of thy vapid sin.
In flesh, I come bearing bountiful wealth and crown;
alas, in decay, I may claim nothing as my own.
Upon white steed I ride, demanding thy reverence,
for no mortal plea may earn my benevolence.
My castle is made of shattered coffins and bone.
The lives I take are etched upon my throne.
I am balance, bringer of law and order supreme,
yet my presence is sought only in screams.
"Our true end hath come!" my countrymen thunder,
"God, please save us! Death shall tear us asunder!"
Wherefore doth thou cry for a holy savior?
Wherefore doth I warrant such behavior?
I was thy maker, thy just and wise king,
I asked for no riches or engraved rings.
I am Emperor, I am Death, and in the very end,
the only true kingdom is made of dead men.
I looked up my birth cards in my tarot deck and this happened.