Goddess Of Sorrow

With necromancy from above and fantasy down below,
Where is this heaven you first whispered about so long ago?
Did you lie or fall for utterances filled with ill intent?
You are singular in having made such comment.

Heated hearts poured from vessels into shriveled cups.
Gaping wounds gouged into once sacred vials that are us.
Beginning the ritual which keeps us where we belong.
Still you claim these are travesties; define them as wrong.

Lips stained part with the spilling of sacrosanct.
In response your reasoning holds only tones of being easily flanked.
And still you speak of a place up amongst the clouds.
But all that has descended is the necrotic vows.

Bone dust ground from the deemed worthy volunteers.
One more word about the almighty and you’ll be speared.
No such entity has crossed our realm from dawn til dusk.
Into these words you have offered unbefitting trust.

Daughter of Aro; betrayer be laid low.
Goddess of Sorrow; no more shall we follow.
Practitioner who has lost her way.
Admit you belong amongst us not another day.
For continued rantings will only dilute our standing.
And we refuse to give up our devotion.
It is strong, you are weak; accept you have welcomed defeat.