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Is there a god so fortunate as Dīs Pater?

Take this life, seal this fate, spread dust to earth

There exists only one sound a sufficient curse

The ghoulish din as Nero's coin drops in the purse

Slain souls and burnished gold

Held in the coffers of the earth

Piled ash and precious stones

Wealth bitter as laurel herbs

Imagines maiorum, the mourners howl as they beat their chests

But why waste on such a fiend this funeral jest?

With mace in hand, Charun stalks the procession line

Yet the gathered crowds spare no chance to show their ire

Slain souls and burnished gold

Held in the coffers of the earth

Piled ash and precious stones

Wealth bitter as laurel herbs

Is any emperor as corrupt as he?

At very last fate exacted his toll on thee

The people would spare no revile

And even blessed Fascinus could not blind their evil eyes

An altar is raised and sacrifice made

Cursed be the memory of Nero's life