Wisdom of an Aged Ally

Carry my archaeological parchment around this historical site of future predictions, where the
tombs of Anubis are a scent of confusion amidst this welcomed display of harlotry.
Blues music may be ******, as she communicates her utmost intensities with sensual hatred.
However, I have driven through canyons of ****** and violent fantasy, where the abyss is shallow and neighbourly death is sold to huntsmen who are vagrants upon the rail-road tracks of collusion.
Just think about that for a second.
Who are the hunters among us in this echoing swampland of sophistication?