Blessed be the wiccan's daughter.
Whose eyes night Stars had stole their color.
Soft skin as seafrost gifted blessing, tend to my forehead light caressing.
Soul to soften to Slumber.

Silken cloth paled and compare to flowing locks of sifted hair.
The shades of autumn burn as fire,
her falling mane to fule my fire unyielding hues of umber.

Wicked spells of love unneeded, my hearts enchantment unimpeded.
Cravings hexed and curse fulfilling.
Shaped desires deemed unwilling cast darkness on light alter.


The waving smoke of sages herth will cleanse this broken body's earth,
of impure wants and crooked dealings to leave my temple prime to stealing.
moon falls and marks heights falter