Silver is the knife that use to cut myself

here in this circle of salt, black candles alight

I speak the most ancient of tongues

calling to my battle harden and dead

blood runs from my wrists

I let it flow over my half naked body



I lay the pictures down of my enemies

share my blood with their images

and then with my silver ****** knife

I stab at their images cursing their life

outside the wind picks up pace

here do come the last of my race



One by one they do appear

outside the circle I did make that clear

I point at each one in turn

my commands each one will learn

I **** at my bleeding wrists

then spit blood on each one of them



They kneel to me

they swear their oaths

for anointed am I

by her of many name

now I send them as I pray

send them on their deadly way





By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris