Quintus Naeniam

We take these cups of woven bone,

And shake them round these monuments.

With blackness in our other hand, we disturb the sleeping dead.

Get you up! Oh rotten corpse,

Our work for you has come!

Forget the rest so easily earned, as your body laid down its head.

Feel the ground cleave and crumble forth,

Your tomb has been unsealed.

Reach out from soil that holds you captive.

You have been bound,

By living flesh and cunning minds.

So must you seek revenge.

Reek havoc upon the beating heart,

Rise up now, oh living dead.

-M.E. InkOwl

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