As suggested by LordLink, I will post this here as well...

Meaningless! A life so palsied and gaunt;
I have led one more splendid and fierce by far,
I crossed the mighty, the strongest men I’d taunt,
My mistress was Death and my master was War.
With my strength at its peak and honour unflawed,
I once danced to the pipes of the Laughing God.

The Sword Dance, the Death Dance, I mastered them well,
I sang to the lyre, played dreams on the harp,
But my brothers and sisters eventually fell,
To the child of our vice reaching out from the Warp.
Though the star-light itself at my sanity gnawed,
I still danced to the pipes of the Laughing God.

We are damned, even Isha cannot lend grace,
Yet hope lives with the diamond-patterned jesters,
Through the Webway they still aid our dying race,
Death comes to the places where Slaanesh festers!
When the Swordwind is silent, the Path outlawed,
They’ll still dance to the pipes of the Laughing God.