Reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.

From the deep dark forgotten depths I shall rise,
To promise vengeance and violence to the vile,
Angst and anarchy my vendetta will strive
Descending doom no damsel can beguile.

Desolate, deafening the dark will be,
A cold swift blade shall seek,
That weakness within your knees,
Like a wasted weasel you shall reek.

*MRT aunties, I'm looking at you.