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The grating noise of horned owl emphasises the dark |
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My only beacon in oblivion |
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Now when I'm one with this mystic web |
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Wherein dimensions bled to one |
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The fivefold kiss again |
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The lips that seal the vow |
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The feeling, that feeling |
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Here I stand |
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Where the witches sing their hymns |
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Full of tangled allegory |
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The atheme |
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One of the tools of art |
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Which reveals the lore |
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The ancient craft |
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That hides in my heart |
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Acknowledged and exposed |
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The pain Of the two initiations |
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Already made sense |
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It illustrates our goal |
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To create a new world |
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With my bare hands |
