Dressed down by the hawks that turn their eagle eyes,
Sweets to the sweet is not in the casket.
And the notes she had, have dissolved in the river.

Forty thousand brothers, have no match on my heart.

A long white gown, to cover her pain.
With lilies braided in to turn back the clock.
And shining silver, mottled with crimson,
Chains what is left of her heartbreak down.

Awake from the grave,
let them know it’s not fair!
For the tragically beautiful
to drown in young love.

Let the bastardized man weep in despair,
yet stay away dear.
For he is not worth, the hand of the good.

Let him avenge, but do not step in.
Your time is gone,
keep watch and let live.

The dead must stay buried,
or the living will pass.
This is the Order.
and viter est iter besides.