Hour 14

It approaches my own witching hour, 3:33

My lover grows tired.


Bell, book, and candle now take up

Then raise your cup

Renounce your lord

You’ll be adored

Raven, rat, and blackest cat

On shoulders sat

Sing your virtues

And take your dues

The coven maketh you their own

In stitches sewn

Bound by blood

Now don thy hood

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