You die like an old man, your taxed organs, blood pressure going haywire, the aching joints and blood in your stool, some sort of hospice care, unloved and entirely alone, a demon will lick your lifeless and balmy face before your cruel little eyes close and you meet your dark lord, the one who gave you such power.
Kings and Queens are all the same, the festering, rotting Bidens who hunger for young flesh, the political window dummies, tongues controlled by another, all die, none change into light, they feast on you in Hell.
God gave me no smile, He gave you reproach. I walk my wild fields, sunrise and sunset in a basket, precious days ahead, God only knows.