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A string of men covered in mud

Is marching past gallows and shrines

The path is yet slick with their blood

Their dead eyes can’t see any signs

Lies form the rotting mouths

Curses from good people

Forgiveness’ sharp axe

Compassion’s thawed snow

At the dump of rotting carcasses

They have found the eternal rest

The pit became their common home

In dead womb of the earth

Sop for those who are maddened with grief

Glowing ember for frost-bitten hands

Rusty nails for those men who believe

Break some bread with one who starved to death

Ask the ones rotting in the ground, what is life eternal…

Ask the grave worms, what is life eternal…