The Sitting

There was a sitting A séance of sorts Spirited shadows danced In the dimming wick There was a woman Lover and the weak a carver and red meat There was a priest father, a prayer, king of the weaklings There was a rising A séance of sorts Spirits of sudden stir sudden dead wick And the woman Lover suddenly weak carved some red meat There was a priest father of the weaklings slayer of the wee