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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 irresistible 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."
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