Black Demon *summoner*
even now they wait...
Through the Lintel
The braisers lit and incense perfum'd the air,
The flames danced across my questing stare,
forming the circle, five be the call...
beckoning, enchanting, binding the fall...
Call up the watchers, guardians of yore,
Offering the sigils of my treasured lore,
westward, they are compelled to obey...
protections 'gainst the dark of day...
Unstop the vial, sweetest be the breath,
Winding about trees, seeking its breadth,
northward, the fog of Goddess's breath...
gathered 'bout the circle's edge, wispy seth...
Offer the spiced applewood to the darkening flames,
Conjure the servants of power, nine be the names,
eastward, granting the pow'r of desire...
mind's eye, reflections, shadows in fire...
The churned earth of grave drops from my hand,
Borrowed from the hollow hills, not of mortal land,
southward, they rise in shapes unknown...
prophets of pow'r, seeds of earth be sown...
To the center, feel the chill, raised of knife and chalice,
Slicing deep, athame to flesh, bound in blood not malice,
inward, binding spirit to mind's light...
focusing thoughts, Scythian's bitter rite...The binding be complete, the pow'rs pass the key,
Stare to the blackened mirror, so mote it be.
Welcome to a shadowed table...
