Come with a sentence on your head—
You’ll make good fodder for my hell!
Come with the heartaches that died with you,
With ashes of hope within your hand:
You died as all earth’s creatures do—
Foreclosure, at Death’s demand.
Come before me for sentence now—
Come ev’ry one—I know you all:
A few shall wear the glory brow,
But many, many must go to hell!”