It is written
Amenti is a place of stupor and decay
Devoid of light
Wherein is collected every creature
Gods and men great and small
Escaped by neither the young nor the old
It is written
There was a time when there was no death
When the God Temu alone existed
Death became necessary
To continue his existence
After breath had left his body
It is written
The fertile lands of the living
Are merely the antechamber to the netherworld
The earth only a temporary dwelling place
The true home is the underworld which awaits us all
It is written
The god with the face of a dog
The eyes of a man
Who feedeth on the dead
Who watches at the lake of fire
He who waits to devour the newly arrived dead
The god which swalloweth hearts
And voideth filth
Who remains unseen
It is written
It is written
It is written
The true home is the underworld which awaits us
The true home is the underworld which awaits us
Awaits us all
The true home is the underworld which awaits us
Awaits us all
The true home is the underworld which awaits us
Awaits us all
The true home is the underworld
The true home is the underworld
The true home is the underworld
The true home is the underworld