Early I vowed that with my every breath,
I would seek vengeance for my brother's death:
this motive I concealed from light's least sparks
within a ruse---the theories of Karl Marx.
The People? What did I care for their need?
My interest was only in boundless terror,
imposed upon them---in word, though, and deed,
that they should suffer for the old czar's error.
But as I die, one truth I cannot tell
to those who are now watching me expire:
I fell, beneath me, the wide mouth of Hell
expand; and, from it, the relentless fire
leaps at me (there, my torment will not stall
nor cease). The Scriptures are true . . . after all.
Starward