You brothers, whose mortality proves hardier than ours,

Harden not your hearts so in our wasted hours:

For blessed are the merciful who pray,

Whom God on high in like will sure repay.

You witness here the soaring fate of five, six damn-ed men

In our speedy flight too glutt’nous were we then.

With our corrupted flesh now raw consumed

Our brittle bones help worthier flowers bloom.

Yet stay your tongue, if mock’ry be your joy.

Pray God hold us all in His pardon.

You brothers, if we dare to call you such, show not disdain

Toward our fate, but ruth, though Justice may have slain

Our bodies. For you know man’s feebleness

Of mind, and heart, when lacking common sense.

You faithful who to save our wretched souls can intercede,

Pray to Mary’s pure, risen Son for we who bleed.

Oh, let His stream of Love not wither dry

But quench, nay, flood Hell’s fires, lest we die.

Let be we dead, who to be saved must now

Pray God hold us all in His pardon.

You brothers, see your fellow man washed clean by wind and rain

Scorch-ed black by this sun’s cold sadistic reign

Crows and their young have feasted on our eyes

And torn our faces’ skin ‘til blood ran dry.

You raise your eyes and never see our dangling corpses still

While the wild winds blow, which whip us where they will,

And on a whim may stop, then once more stir

These bloody rag dolls darned by beaks of birds.

Join not our sorry lot, for then none will

Pray God hold us all in His pardon.

You, Jesus, to whom all bow down and pray,

Deny Hell’s pow’rs possession of our souls,

And break our bonds of sin with Lucifer.

And let our truth be counsel to all men:

Pray God hold us all in His pardon.