Widdershins, death begins To fashion fete to gallow scenes: Sprits rising to discredit rebirth
In the Samhain mist We lay in welcome by the western gate With the five fold kiss For every soul returning From the fecund abyss Where nature's travesties congregate With a stone cold wish To see the wicker man burning
The wind, she flitters Through the forest of our hearts: Wreathed in leaves As she weaves her witchcraft We breathe, enamoured Of the conquering dark!
