Shutters ooze open, circles lament
Resting upon bars of light. Loud spirit
Wails, trapped behind this light, causing
All without to stir in agitation.
Swift fist to the top of its
Imprisonment – morning ritual may begin.
Shroud of death is shrugged
Off. Stiff form stirs; through
Burial chamber door zambie drags
Limbs. Into the room of cleansing.
Hallowed water from above
Falls to its death, forgiving all
Sin in its demise.
Soul scoured, ritual rises in
Increased tempo and timbre as
Asperous blade burrows through
Flesh’s outer layer.
Flaking and needling, mixed excrement of
Pulp and bristle aggregate in a
Poor bitumen at altar bowl’s bottom.
Corpse cries, coagulates as blade
Bites, leaves its sacred mark.
Return to the Room of Robing, where
Holy habiliments are draped over.
Soul reflected defines completion, and
Cadaver now thus, adoring
Sol announces day.
This Morning ritual,
Acolytes claim-
Complete.
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