"YOLO," said Millennials, and "yeet," the Zoomers cried

"Rizzler gyatt fanum tax," the Alphas then replied

And lo, there came a shaking as an ebon spire rose

Upon it writ the tongues of men, their generations' prose

And from the sky a thund'rous voice called out unto the stone,

As golden letters glowed upon its surface, newly shown:

"RIZZLER GYATT FANUM TAX, SIGMA OHIO SKIBIDI"

And all beheld the words embossed theron in great timidity

With shaking and with wavering voice, the grim refrain began

As all the generations sang the verse at its command

Their weeping and their running sores did nothing to delay

The chanting of that fevered song as night succumbed to day

But rose that morn a blighted sun whose light scoured like a flood

The sky was rent asunder and the rivers turned to blood

Their flesh peeled off in sickly strips, their bones were rendered bare

And still they chanted ever on, the words they uttered there

Until bone and flesh and earth and death were all forgotten things

And still unbidden, undesired, the blackened spire sings

Around it wind the whispers of the souls in its captivity:

"rizzler gyatt fanum tax... sigma ohio skibidi"