The Questioning Of Lived
There You Are, Sitting On Top Of A Rock,
Watching Over The Hill, Close By The Red Sea Dock.
Twiddling With Your Fingers, Boredom had Overpowered You.
Simply, Bored Out Of All The Missions You Do.
Soon Sam Appears ˆIn Front Of Your Damned Body Dirtied By The Dead.
Laying The Tip Of His Scythe On The Center Of Your Forehead.
"''It Seemed That The Dead Praised You Lived.'' Sam Said.
Causing You To Look Up And Begin to pled.
For The Countless Lives You Had Took And Fed,
''Why Do You Plead For Forgiveness My Son?'' Sam Asked,
Lifting His Scythe To Hs SHoulder, As He Basked
In The Light Of The Black Sun,
The Very Star That He Created Just As He Created Everyone.
You Looked At Him, Questioning The Moral Of Your Strife.
Trying to Figure Out How You, Alone, Could Not Feel Happy About Your Own Life.
Sam Then Pointed His Scythe At You And Nods His Head.
You Understood, Without His Lips In Need Of Moving, What He Had Just Said.
As Sam Left You Under The Dark Sun's glow.
You Head Off To The Cemetery Just So You Can Make A Hole.
Just For THe Next Victim That You Plan On Burying Tonight.
So That You And Your Victim Can Have A Nice Rest For The Night.