The Unearthing Poem by Ofentse Mercy Hajane

Welcome, children of the dark heavens,
Welcome sons and daughters of the distraught.
I sing glory to your presence.
For in shades of the lost,
The behemoth shall rise from thine twisted dreams and mangled corpses.
Those who've in yesteryears have heed not the call of the heavens above,
Shalt now herald of the heavens below.
For the nether chooses nor make requests for which of thine younging ends up therein.
So fear not the darkness, for therein you'll find your new home.
Remember, as you strut about aimlessly in the wasteland of the nether,
angels above sing not what angels below do
For our songs are that of the wraiths, those of melancholy and regret.
Our prayers are shames of the forgotten pasts.
And our hopes are to undo the beauty of the world who blots us with their shadow.