The Old Gods wip

I wonder if there’s a place
Where the old gods go to die,
Those who’ve passed from memory
Or stayed long past their prime

In some graven crypt
Do they linger there to keep
Company to the Nameless Ones
Who’ve long since been asleep?

Do they crumble into dust?
Or crystallize in stone?
Or follow us mere mortals,
Flesh dripping from the bone?

Every god will see a day
When no one knows their face-
They’re all-to-soon forgotten
And another takes their place

Does Anubis wait alone
In some dank embalming room
With no one left to mummify
And too many empty tombs?

Or Odin sit upon his throne
No more warriors to call,
No one left to drink his mead
Or fill Valhalla’s halls?

And what of all the other gods
For whom prayer comes no more?
How long until they turn to dust
And cede the earthly floor

To the new gods seeking power,
Though in their infancy-
Of Machine and Spark and Wire,
Of Information, Electricity-

Even Jehovah one day too,
Will be a relic in the past
As Christians forsake their Christ
And praise the Almighty Flow of Cash

The time has passed for blood and bone
And of sacrificial days-
Technology now takes its place
To send the old ones to their graves.