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