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Lo, death rises upon an altar!
acting as the eternal exalter—
amidst the virgin in the dust.
Where the jailed and the jailor and the small and the great—
all eat off a eternal plate.
Here lie palaces of old, gilded manors, and halls—
where the privileged few threw many balls.
Cities that scrape the sky, lights without suns shine—
where they dine upon swine, and wine.
There is food without the hunt;
Travel atop undead beasts that roar.
Communion without a breath—
that lends itself to intangible wars—
that are fought without scores.
Though they praise freedom, they create slaves.
they cast a shadow, and curse not the source.
O Death! where is your strength? O Virgin Daughter, where is your crown?
Your strength is the grave; and your crown ground to dust.
But Lo! I feel thunder in the air.
the heavens I sense a movement their.
The sky cracked like a sheet of glass—
and yielded not to the upper class.
Red rivers flow forth and The dams burst as if told.
out the west arises hell from a pit below
quickly coming to quench it’s eternal woe
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Yotam, Kris. (May 2025). Exaltatio Mortis or "The Banquet of the Dead". krisyotam.com. https://krisyotam.com/verse/lyric/exaltatio-mortis
@article{yotam2025exaltatio-mortis,
title = "Exaltatio Mortis or "The Banquet of the Dead"",
author = "Yotam, Kris",
journal = "krisyotam.com",
year = "2025",
month = "May",
url = "https://krisyotam.com/verse/lyric/exaltatio-mortis"
}