Buried in your narrow house, six feet under.
"Rest In Peace," the mourners'' heartfelt wish.
But there is no "god" above you, only the worms below
And when your casket rots, they squirm forth …
Upon your putrefacted flesh the worms do feast.
Creeping through your brains, they eat your spent hopes.
Crawling through your heart, they eat your secret loves.
The worms swallow all that you were, and will ever be …
Worship the Worm as it consumes your "Eternity,"
Worship the Worm as it conquers your Humanity.