Funerary Descent

The sinister witch-fires gleam

Against a sky swirling out of form

Embracing the Undead Temple

Have their bleak flames flicered

Casting no living shadows

To remind of a natural place

To dance upon the walls and ground

Or to draw but nightmarish figures

Funerary worshippers crawling

Almost as a heap of flesh

Into the postal chambers

Enshrined with ancient symbols

To descend unto Black Earth

Where bones adorn all

Neither dead or with beating hearts

Are they, called by His voice

Gathering of hopeless souls

No longer able to flee

Flocking onwards

Down there where madness dwells

in the city of eternal death

In the shadow of the howling ziggurats