Dim the lights, wrong the rites
Toss the puerile cross away
We are gashing from a venomous womb
Burning bright, dead of night
Pyres stain a milky way
Lust is splashing the dark side of the moon
In the Samhain mist
We lay in welcome by the western gate
With the five fold kiss
For every soul returning
From the fecund abyss
Where nature