Claim your crown, King of Soil
Worms and roots rot with endless toil
I remain a mortal slave
To quench the thirst of the reaper's glaive
Whose harvest never fails
As the hammer meets the nail
I remain, to quench the thirst of the reaper's glaive
Loyal to the soil
Spell of unforgiving grasp
Separates the weakest form
Beyond all who breathe the mist
Mortal scars ceasing to exist
Draw upon the fragile thread
Of wilting tapestry
Called back to the soil again
Another fading soul departs in disdain
Loyal to the soil
I remain a mortal slave
To quench the thirst of the reaper's glaive
Whose harvest never fails
As the hammer meets the nail
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