Slowly drowning in sand Dust and death greet you In the valley of the crucified Survey the slaughter Of a hundred score Crucified Christians Eroded bones of victims past Human detrilus scattered Skulls crack underfoot Aged blood stained and brown The dead and the near dead The unburiable stench of decay Soft grey mouldy flesh Dangles from withered bones Forsaken sounds from parched throats Cracked and arched spines succumb To sand scoured days Cadavers that fester Like rotted fruit on the vine This is not Hell This is a place like any other brother The sins of God and the sins of man Their cunting holy trinity Slowly forgotten in sand The lesser law abideth as the key Vessel of holy pain Hear me dark ones of the pit
sand, crucified, unburiable, detrilus, cunting