Death Be Remoat !

Flourished forrest's beyond outstretched hills, send trees reaching as felled by hell. Required life's forces of watered stench... Drinks fro' the housed waters so foreign and secluded, hopefully cleansed and non-polluted. A darkened sky all barren of hope... Drives man away from one'futured down-hilled, slope. Trapped atop one guiltless spirit... So paranoid and dillusioned, watchful of rage and hoping to not fear it. Man's own ego kills off all breathing living beings... Begets all hope of chanced fleeings. With sword in hand and about one's throat... Off comes the head, rolled into the moat. Gators and crocks, surround' by fire... Landed about thee arrowed most dire! King and queens rule this kingdom's state... Forever slaved to misfortune's matched mate. Death is but one exit by all... 'Last won by, a peasant's own fall. 'Head up, head out, This be knight's final last call'!