What would you do if I had to die?

Not under fate’s warm eye,

but under the sword of a liar’s lie.

Sheathed by the leather of a steer’s left side.

Swung by the hand of a man in devil hide.

Would you beat breast and wrench eye?

Would the tears still fall

through your fingers as you curse sky?

Or would you simply throw lilies to the ground and that be the only testament for years

by my side?