The Alchemist
The Alchemist
Howling moon shining bright in the clearing
Torch marked quarters cast a circle searing
Sinning sirens ringing the barrier
Seven brides of phantoms shall carry her
Choking incense, black clouds shroud the altar
Thunderous words shake! the pillars falter
Grinding dry herbs for these enchanting spells
Blessing all saints, while damning them to hells
Gloves marred with white chalk and cigarette burns
With a wave of the staff, the cauldron churns
Ashes to ashes to diamond crust
Body revives from the smoldering dust
Bloodcurdling shriek, succumbed like the others
Again failed resurrecting their mothers
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