We priests
Of the dirt
Have gathered this bark
To bring
Fire and light
To your eternal dark
To set loose
This tongue
To remind the mind
That “you
Will have no
other Gods before me”
In dark
Robes these takers
Prepare what is not theirs
In justice
In gratiated
In kind in cantations
To evoke
Your fear
And provoke you into hiding
What spells
The Witchers
Cast to find you
Follow Your
Every move
Re-writing mind under blue lights
You lie
Prostrate
Waiting for enlightenment
Meditate
You must
In these powers greater than you
Bring to
The light
A word that can still be heard
Not still
Born on
The lips of false prophets
For the
Opening
Ceremony has just commenced
Put down
Your flags
Draw up your masks tightly
No spell
Can stop
The cast of blood that
Will baptize our new souls
