Sycophant

All men shall rise and fall in the passing of time Where will you stand when deaths hand comes forth Will you wallow in the guilt built within yourself Or will you smile at the fact that your job here's done Now you may rest your head for eternity in peace Mediocrity flows deep within your veins and the fact is that if you were to die today You'd be a fool if you thought just for a second that your name lives on past you You've been so worthless in this brief time where pain is fleeting As is the memories of you The last mentions of your name will be held in disdain In those bitter breaths you are forgotten You are a parasite feeding off of better lives Sapping from anyone who cared You deserve no peace, no rest, just pain Putrid soul, so pitiful Hell has made room for you