Desecration

Indeed you are untouchable,
If you're all in armor clad.
Were we to meet each other,
It could only be in combat.
Uncover your callous skin,
And I could not be stirred.
It might as well be carrion,
When your soul is disembodied.
I'll pay no honours to a grave,
That keeps you from the earth.
To love is to return to nothing,
And ascend in ritual fire.
If the dead cannot be raised,
By desecration of their rest,
Then all they are is meat,
Worthy but of worms.

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