Our rituals are as old as time itself,
We deal in death while you quibble over petty wealth.
Reveling in riches beyond your wettest dreams,
We chase that which cannot be seen.
The intangible taste of suffering and grief,
That is the umami which we seek.
Merchants of death and disease,
Torturous rituals of which we cannot speak,
Torment itself is our expertise.

Image made with Midjourney V6, edited in Gimp, and upscaled with Gigapixel by Topaz
Poem written by me