I stand before a congregation, my hands rest upon a teeth accented podium, partake in

My communion verily, this bone chapel is yours and my sanctuary, from the ceiling hangs ribcage

Chandeliers, candle wax drips as its melting over, the walls built high from the skulls of past lives, singing

The hymns of the wretched, start the black mass, followers of my sect clear a path, my unholy acolytes

Seem to float as they walk, appeasing incense, swing like pendulum clocks, this is my blood, this is my

Body, drink and taste the flesh of the ungodly, hear the cries of the sacrificed, the whispering of esoteric

Minds