The meek never live.
Those who bless most
have nothing to give.
Caught archers lose fingers;
trapped thieves, robbed of hands.
Brash fornicators
meet higher demands.
The whoremaster's humbled.
Prepare the harpoons.
Here come more allies
to suck on his wounds.
So march from the gallows.
Rise from the Chair.
Heaven's tomorrow.
See you all there.
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