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As the candles were spent in Heaven
And all minds lay wrapped in thoughts
In a spellbound sleep were captives
And in the spider’s web were caught

The Path stood free for the treachery
Soon from Thane, to the Almighty Chosen One

“Is this a dagger I see before me
With the handle towards my hand?
Come! Let me clutch thee!
The Witching hour is close at hand!”

A mind that bred this vision, A blade devised for vanity
A heart that bled devotion, A blade at the edge of sanity

The Way for him it pointed
As it glowed white in the dark
He followed the spectral image
To the chamber that had been marked

Whilst the guards in dreams confounded
Whilst all Nature looked as dead
He came close upon the guardians
And Blade dripped down in red

Like the wolf that stalks its prey
He crept along with stealth
Like a ghost sneaked in the chamber
For the offering to Pale Hekate

Deep in the unlit corridors came the sound of Hekate’s Bell
Thus has marked the initiation of this Malice, dark and fell

The king had best not heard it
As for him it was a knell
That wouldst take him up to Heaven
Or in the deepest depths of Hell…

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