Vulture’s Eucharist

The world is a charnel yard… and only the hungry remain. Gather, children of the rot — the feast is prepared. Ash in the chalice, rust on the blade Sun-bleached skulls in the barricade No miracles fall from a gutted sky We sharpen our teeth and we don’t ask why The market runs on marrow and meat A carved-out rib for a widow’s seat Mercy’s a ghost that the dust erased We feed on the fear in a killer’s face Kneel at the altar of gnashing jaws No holy book — just talons and claws The weak are a gospel carved in bone On a throne of husks they sit alone Feast on the fallen! Drink from the weak! This is communion for the god of the bleak! Vulture’s eucharist — tear it apart! Swallow salvation with a blackened heart! Fingers snap like communion bread Wine from the wound of the walking dead The choir sings with a rattling breath A hymn to hunger, a dance with death The cook-pot hisses a liar’s psalm A severed hand makes a soothing balm We don’t bury, we don’t repent The only grace is the flesh we rent Kneel at the altar of gnashing jaws No holy book — just talons and claws The weak are a gospel carved in bone On a throne of husks they sit alone Feast on the fallen! Drink from the weak! This is communion for the god of the bleak! Vulture’s eucharist — tear it apart! Swallow salvation with a blackened heart Boil the bones and crack the prayer A starved messiah tastes the air No resurrection, no release Just the grinding of the teeth FEAST ON THE FALLEN! DRINK FROM THE WEAK! THIS IS COMMUNION FOR THE GOD OF THE BLEAK! VULTURE’S EUCHARIST — TEAR IT APART! SWALLOW SALVATION WITH A BLACKENED HEART! Eat of my body… drink of my dust… In the belly of the waste, all are just… …meat.