Sextons of the churchyard Have seen unblessed things; Ground no longer hallowed Has sprouted new graves. Descendants of clan That unsurped maternity hear whispers in their blood; This summons of the Fathers. Adherence to the principle Of "man by woman born"... Anachronistic ritual Soon to be obsolete. "Forgive me Father For I know not what I do; My grave beckons As irresistable as drawing breath." Nature abhors a vacuum,
The same is true to a tomb... It cannot be empty. A barren womb of plenty... A vacant grave must be filled. For this the Fathers' will, Material birth be abjure, A mother's c*nt is unpure. Sired in blasphemy, In nocturnal obeisance to rotted hearts Filled with necrolatry Reverse the life cycle be reborn through d**h. "Forgive me Father For I know not what I do; I leave a void to fill one, Hear my prayers from far below."