The Sun has returned
Cast a shadow in the stone
For the feast of blood, knife of the black mirror
Feast of flesh, feast of grain, to them its all the same
Since the golden one went, to the place below
And with their soul, did they sow, with our blood, did it grow
When our mother returned his seed to mortal realm
Return the land, heal the maize, untangle the silk within
Remember, the blood to be spilled, and prepare for whats to come!
Be encircled by your brethren, and the sorority of eternity
At the solstice hearth or through these hymns for winter
Center thyself, on what is, and its echo, from long ago
Witness the profane become the sacred as the memory returns
And the hearthwood is consumed, and the waters begin to boil
And the ancient aroma, fills the air, though tainted
With invaders flesh, this ritual restores our soil
But only through our toil, will the mother be made anew
So, For the Sun and the Rain, bless our scourges' pain
And may their cries remind us, we are all the same
Their sacrifice tills the soil for planting
Let us match their sobs, with the songs we will sing
Til then, let the kernels' churn and the fires burn
Their bones, to the mortar and the pestle
To thicken the boiling broth
As the mountain of plantain leaves is consumed
May the flesh be blessed and entombed
Shrouded, by the leaves and bound in twine
And cast into the steam, where in its vapor holds
The supernal memory of the matriarchs, they who have always
Kept the hearthfire, of the old gods, alive
Honoring, whether they know it or not, the suns' rise
Over the third temple, in the lost world
Its echo felt, in their labor over the feast
For centuries, on repeat
Blood Kernel Cult
Our Flesh In the Pot
Our God is our Crop
Hail the wheel of time
Hail the workers, the crime
Our god we will grind
Their lords, we will find
On the flesh we will feast
Its ritual eternity
All partake so casually
No thought of the casualties
The pattern, eternal, its reason
Cthonic, and supernal
Partake as you will
But consider the blood spilled
On the pyramids in the jungle
Or the blood spilled to forget them
And hail those that remember