The Rite

Fire cauldron burned with green

     and bubbles frothed out hot and mean

The flame beneath glowed bright red

and crackled as we raised the dead.


Elouise with hair of gold

And Daniel, her have and hold

Chanted quiet by the cauldron flame

While Frank and i slaughtered virgin game.


The Nightly stars flicked and fell

as thick black smoke– like things(A thing?) from hell–

Flew from out the cauldron hot

And smelled of things below. and rot.


Bring back to us, our fallen friend

suscitare de somno

That our broken hearts may mend

suscitare de somno


In darkened shroud

of thick smoke cloud

I guided Franklin forth.

Suscitare de somno


By the cauldron and the pair

I made Franklin to stare

into the cauldron green

Suscitare de somno.


None of us

Knew him too well

a simple man,

now damned to hell.


Suscitare de somno.


A splash

a crash

A flash

Suscitare de somno.


Franklin fell in

As dead as sin

and we ourselves were damned.

Suscitare de somno.


My best friend

Laurence, Grinned

When out of his grave he crawled.

Suscitare de somno.


we thought we knew

our black rite through

but alak were we so wrong

Somno Stultorum.


a year and a day

Since we went our way,

we seldom talk since then.

Somno Stultorum.


Now we’re compelled–

like trees been felled,

Are pulled towards the soil–

to return to the site of our sinful toil.


We see grass burned

Where the cauldron churned

and the grave from whence laurence crawled

Somno Stultorum.


The air grows chill

The night falls still–

No stars or moon in sight.

Somno Stultorum.


Then cries of pain

Like water rains

a tremendous torrential typhoon.

Somno Stultorum.


The noise, it swells

and us it fells

and we realize we are the source.

Somno Stultorum.


Our bodies twist

We grind teeth to grist

and cry and cry and cry.

Somno Stultorum.


Our bones all pop

And hearts feighn stop

but, mock us, by going on.

Somno Stultorum.


We pull out our hairs

Our clothing tears

our skin we rip away.

Somno Stultorum.


We break our nails

On our own entrails

and strew our insides out.

Somno stultorum.


our voices break

our bodies shake

our minds all melt away

Somno Stultorum.


What was dead

should well have stayed

for far too high

is the price we’ve paid.


Then at last, i alone, crawl away.

ego oro ad mortem

ego oro ad mortem

ego oro ad mortem


Please, let death come.


3 thoughts on “The Rite

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