Exaunt, morality

Just look at what we worship, Canonised embellishments of Moloch, Proffered by Tophetian symbiosis, Raise the young To eat their hearts And conflagrate their ribcage In a cornucopia of flowering idolatry, Danse de la muerte, Feverish, intoxicated, Ablutions in the claret wine of Ba'al-Hammon Disfigure God's simulcra, Render a prophet without a face, Ready to receive the transplant Of a chagrined ego's lust.