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Be ye afraid of the sword

For wrath bringeth punishments

Of the blade

That ye may know there is judgment

Thou shall drink of the wrath of God

Yet thee shall perish forever

Like thine own dung

Every hand of the wicked

Shall come upon thee

My face is foul with weeping

For the thing which I feared so greatly

Has come upon me

As I toil

Amongst the muck of humanity

I am eaten

In my corporeal form

I am unworthy

For I have transgressed

In the eyes of the almighty

Gather around and behold

I stare into the abyss

Remember that my life is wind

Mine eye shall see no good

Be ye afraid of the sword

For wrath bringeth punishments

Of the blade

That ye may know there is judgment

I sayeth to corruption

Thou art mine father

Thine eyes have seen destruction

My face is foul with weeping

For the thing which I feared completely

Has come unto me

I'm plunged into the abyss

There the weary be at rest

I hear not the voice of the oppressor

And sorrow hid from mine eyes

When I can find the grave

Our rest together is in the dust