---

With iron and the ancient bones

I carve the spear of destiny

Where light is entombed

And sun is deceased

The hammers do the praying

Their sermon will resound

They sing the words of Solomon

An abyssal serenade

To hunt the foul men

To feed the chasm

Frailed and dirty they fall

In shameful disgrace

Vile are their intents

Crawl

Worm

Sent back to surface

And burn with the light

Scorn

Wrought

Womb of nothingness

Enshrined in absence