A blinding moon forsaking her light challenged the clouds to weep for night A scented wind wafting lavender air blew through the locks of fire lit hair A deep slow rhythm from a lonely drum carried the call of a chanted hum A shadow caressed the blessed ground the hallowed plot that she had found A silver blade on stone at rest the circled star upon her breast A censor smolders sacred weeds the book unveiled proclaims her needs A cup and cauldron hold their fill the quarters called they'll tend her will A circle drawn around this place Magic made in sacred space A bell rings forth the summoned wraith yet merely tolls for another's faith A sight for amber enchanted eyes the salt ensures the vision dies A Theban script with which she writes has been transmuted and taken flight A spell well cast its energy grounded the power sent and intent well founded A libation poured upon the Earth a payment promised for rebirth A Witch alone among the wood raises now, her darkly hood