Writhe, Witch Mother, Writhe Poem by bob eichen

By the tolling of the bells, call Kushiel.
By the blood upon the alter, come Lahatiel.
Within the lines drawn on the floor, come Shoftiel.
By the mumbling of numbers, add Makatiel.
From the mortar and the pestle, rise Hutriel.
From the cauldron boiling hot, rise Puriel.
By the pricking of my thumb, come Rogziel.

Bind the witch with iron bands.
Bind the witch with iron chains.
Bind the witch with iron locks.

Drag her back to Hell's abyss.
Throw her in the burning pitch.
Unwatchful mother, evil witch.

For she has killed the golden child.
T'was she who killed the glorious child.
She has killed the radiant child.