A simple spoken spell
to unlock a sort of hell
Of blood
of bone
of water
and stone

of malice
disgust
of mischief
distrust

Bid away the sins of soil
And cast your doubts down a well
Your deepest wish shall never foil
Only truth be spoke for my spell

Wish be not that your scar cuts deep
Into the skin nor sun
Hope be that you're silent in sleep
for this spell's course be run

Be then still godless fiend
and let soldiers be awoke with sin
Live life filled with quiet sleep
as your soul be taken from within

Chant with a withered voice
and let your blood be tainted
send me arrogance and ungodly noise
let no inch of skin be sainted

Rouse the demons of blithe and pride
and send them swords of steel
From this moment 'til you have died
force their scars to heal

and a final ingredient to this cauldron curse
for your army of a hundred lies
take your heart in a hearse
and let it be not wise