has by no means been called off
yet lose no opportunity
to deaden the dead
to enroll their bitter testaments
in sheets of lead
even you Master Villon
would be downgraded, as if
they had a clue,
from murderer to petty thief:
you who well could discern
when wolves had only wind to eat
my testament and my prediction:
the bastards' hiding place shall be
their final address,
where no amount of quietness
can hide their wind-borne corruption
or cancel their total destruction
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