The cold breeze pinched my skin,
as the moon appeared from between the clouds.
I was strapped down on a stone table
And the wolves had already started to howl.

From the shadows they came as a pack;
Hidden faces and black robes.
Holding the silver dagger of the snake,
they encircled around the table of stone.

Declaring the yellow moon as their witness,
in the bowl of terror, they lit the fire.
Then took a drop of my blood and chanted
"This is for the mare of the dark night"