When the moon was closer by, the stars in dark alignment

Greed bade the cunning call her forth

The psychopomp at twilight

Then did she join the wild hunt

To seek those fit for reaping

Though the cunning folk therein the town had bound her eye from seeing

She guileless in her sacred rite

With souls a’plenty calling

So many doors she did alight herself was dead by morning

Thus the town had struck them down

Run through with potent Blackthorn

Smoldering in embers lay ruined effigies forgotten

The psychopomp among the dead

Her worms already feasting

These craven selfish cunning folk now marked by Scratch for taking

Accursed bound to earthly plane and circled round with Elder

In vespers bloomed Daturas’ flame

Fair warning for the poisoner

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