The Brackish Grail of Death

Awakened over the prayers of necromantic tongues
Personified to the mourning of an eternal burial
Among exiles the road is always black
Their cries echo through the valley of sorrows

An empty plea to the indifferent eyes
A relic inherited by crippled descendants
Unrelated to carrion and odor of putrefaction
They sing the bitterness through the valley of sorrows

Sounds of torment that emerge from the forbidden necropolis
The smoke of burned skulls covers the air
Snatching in dismal visions their unclean spirits
They are like black pearls of the rosary of death

Their mouths are open graves desecrated
Your insane whispers are like sharp teeth
Swirling black water what cleaning inside
Like worms that consume until the white of the bones

The brackish Grail of death will be poured out
Until ashes and blood cover all land
They will rise from the most extreme depths
To contemplate the construction of my temple

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