Widdershins, death begins
To fashion fete to gallow scenes:
Sprits rising to discredit rebirth

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's travesties congregate
With a stone cold wish
To see the wicker man burning

The wind, she flitters
Through the forest of our hearts:
Wreathed in leaves
As she weaves her witchcraft
We breathe, enamoured
Of the conquering dark!