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Sculpting away at the flesh

A surgical apathy

towards the mortal shell

Sculpting away at what is not needed

Blood Returned to Sacred Temple

Spirit satiated

The Astral Cross

As Blending of Space, as twisting of Time

Vendetta is Gnosis

Vendetta is will

May the Nemesis find no air to breath

May their bones turn to Glass

May their flesh be punished with disease

May the sulphur form their fate

As they beg for Azrael's mercy

As sigil, as cuneiform, as a mark

as a reoccurring dream

In the form of salvation

far from the path out of reach

Unto clay, faith is carved

By the wind has molded to form

3 are the watchers, 1 comes, 1 goes and 1 still remains

Forever the clay shall be your stone