A morbid procession
That crawls along the darkened knave
Led by a solemn man of the cloth
Bearing the symbol of their lifeless god
A crucifix of gold
In a grotesque display of opulence
Suspended from chains
The swinging thurible
Spews forth its purifying essence
Purging the cloisters of opprobrium
For the imminent banquet of absurdity
Whispered supplications that echo through the edifice
Reverberate around the stone-cold vestibule
Inflaming the parish into a state of reverie
In anticipation for the impending feast
Upon the altar prayers are recited
The blessed bread becomes his body
Sacrosanct wine becomes his blood
The virgin-born must be consumed
Denial of the sacrament
Means excommunication
So feed upon the saviour
The cold corpse of Christ
The rabid congregation becomes a feeding frenzy
Compelled by a violent lust for blood
Overcome by mass hysteria
The flock becomes a pack of wolves
Gorging upon the putrid flesh of Jesus
Claret of an ancient vintage
Intoxicating holy blood
Washes down the consecrated grisly feast
Tearstained eras of senseless anguish
Sanctity ingested
To become one with the divine
Cannibalising god to reach atonement