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 cunt is unpure
Sired in blasphemy
In nocturnal obeisance to rotted hearts
Filled with necrolatry
Reverse the life cycle be reborn through Death
"Forgive me Father
For I know not what I do;
I leave a void to fill one
Hear my prayers from far below."
