The Jackals Circle Ere I'm Dead, To Bowdlerize Each Word I've Said

I. I did not slay your God— I merely held the mirror to your faces, And in that glass beheld the corpse You'd been carrying through the ages. 'Twas not my hand that struck the blow— You hollowed out your fantasy long ago.

This was no tragedy for me, who sees! The tragedy walks among you still— A civilization gnawing at its knees, Mistaking servitude for will. Your foundation, weak from its inception, Now crumbles into desperate deception.

II. Truth? Comfort? These pretty words you speak— Watch them dissolve like morning frost! You stand before the void you seek To fill with all that you have lost. The hollow beckons, nihilism calls, Or worse—the tribal drums in empty halls!

You are the nihilists! You are the hollow men! Dancing 'round your golden calves again! I write these lines not as your judge but guide— To show you what you've always been inside.

III. Artists! Individuals! Creators of your fate! Why grovel before phantoms at the gate? The divine order was your chain— Now break it! Make your values reign! Cast off the promise of rewards in dust, Live for the lightning, not the rust!

Your ancestors—those warriors bold— Knew nothing of your shepherd's fold! They conquered mountains, sailed the seas, Not for heaven's pale guarantees, But for the glory of the deed, The strength of arm, the noble breed!

IV. This two-thousand-year delirium Makes mockery of all they were! Rather than this death's consortium, Live as though each choice were to recur— Eternal! Endless! Ever-returning! Each decision forever burning!

Choose the harder right each day, Not the infantile, disgraceful way! The world seems disenchanted? No! 'Tis you who've lost the inner glow! Take up the books of minds awake— Find Art! Adventure! Wisdom's sake!

V. In eternal recurrence lies no void— Each moment echoes through all time! What you create cannot be destroyed, What you destroy becomes your crime! This is no substitute for paradise— 'Tis the weight that makes each action's price!

Your "Good and Evil," handed down By generations of half-men, Who wore delusion as their crown And never truly lived—what then? What morality can children teach Who lie to self and others each?

VI. Religion—that sweet poison draught! It stunted you from birth to grave, Warped your aims, your heart, your craft, Made you comfort's willing slave! Your inheritance of wisdom, lost! Replaced with "truths" that bear no cost!

The world grew corrupt before my eyes Discovered that its God was dead— You are not worthy of the lies That brought dark ages, wars, and dread! Wisdom and greatness call to thee— Rise! Rise! Become what you must be!

VII. Rise above the common plane! Choose the mountain, not the valley! Break your comfortable chain! Let no fantasy be your ally! You are more than children lost— You are lightning, storm, and frost!

Reject the hollow comfort's call, Stand upright though you stand alone! For in eternal return's hall, We'll meet again when all is known— Each choice you make reverberates Through all the cosmos' turning weights!