NINE

Let's play a game and light the sage,
I'll fetch the cup, sharpen the blade.
Mark the spot by candle flame,
Unearth the soil that surrounds the grave.

Shut your eyes and count to nine,
Manifest mortal sin,
Conjugate spirit and mind.
For these tales are a sign of the times.

On this cold eve, winter crept.
Like a sly fiend posed as a friend.
With these dull, rusted knives,
Buried deep in my back.

Watch the purveyors of wisdom,
Iniquity throughout life.