sat atop my broken throan
of polished, broken bone
naked and alone
skin cold like the stone

they fear the wrath
of my help
asif my divine punishment
allready delt

make bones of thy enemies
not thy friends
I'm struggeling
to make amends

when crime so common
that everyone forgets
even good men are tired
the crime is let

is it allright?
is it good?
to commit the crime
no one understood

well here i am
vigilante and bored
common sense
no longer we store

atop my throan
of polished bone
i lie in wait

my muslces clench
for the final fight
my last friend
aproaches in the dead of night...