Canticles in long dead tounges
Resounding once again.
Chantings echo down the slopes
Of mountains shunned by men.
Graves - they open.
Followers of him, the sleeping
Dead god, gather 'round
The place where once an altar
To the ancient ones was found.
Fleeting in the dark, wraiths beyond the limit,
Summoned by the spark, chanted at the summit.
Raising the knife, sanctified to slaughter,
Taking a life for the one below the water.
Read aloud from books forgotten by the human race,
Paeans to the one that sleeps in maritime embrace
Keeping him alive in death until the spells give way,
Spells that keep the priest of ancient deities at bay.
Fleeting in the dark, wraiths beyond the limit.
Summoned by the spark, chanted at the summit.
Raising the knife, sanctified to slaughter,
Taking a life for the one below the water.
Canticles in long dead tounges
Resounding once again.
Chantings echo down the slopes
Of mountains shunned by men.
Read aloud from books forgotten
By the human race,
Paeans to the one that sleeps
In maritime embrace.
Fleeting in the dark, wraiths beyond the limit,
Summoned by the spark, chanted at the summit.
Giving him breath, feeding him the victim.
His demise of death is real and not a dictum.
Raising the knife, sanctified to slaughter,
Taking a life for the one below the water.