The Black Prophecy / Ridden With Holy Grace

When the moon casts ominous glow And wild winds blow The dreary raven sings To the rhythm of flapping wings Dance their round the Three in silk Ethereal, fair, and white as milk The Three in cotton do the same All Six call the Devil by his name As long the church tower you can see Six unholy sisters they will be First Peasant Devell, the Devell he is, I swer God Malice, mischief, he kin dew al' of it Skerry spells he kin kast, and he kin witch All sorts of badness like Devells dew Second Peasant 'Tis true, 'tis true, he can call imps at will And hev power over 'em and command Make 'em work his fields wen he drink his ale First Peasant The wicked bastard, he told me one day If I don't bring 'im my money and beer He will witch my horse and will blight my crop The Grocer's Wife Then you paid in vain, I'm afraid my dear No witchcraft could make your nag more stupid Everybody Ahahahahahah! The Miller Ha! The Devil himself he may not be But with the Devil he danced at midnight Deep in the marshlands, where the deuce abodes And powers ungodly he was granted Powers over both Man and Animals The Smith Bollocks! Old George ain't no Devil, you chumps Neither his powers I call ungodly Many good deeds he's done for this village Many poor folks he's cured, good old George has My wife, poor thing, was saved from pain of warts The Grocer Aye, he's right, Old George helped me, too, once And he wanted nothing in return, no But his piercing eyes can make you tremble All his countenance and voice, deep and hoarse Make me believe all the stories I heard Like that of the night at St Nicholas church... The Grocer's Wife Fairy tales of old drunk, all well know his vice! Foolish talk disturbs the peace of our guest A gentleman well-learned that I can tell Hoping for some food and shelter, I'm sure Looking not for creepy superstitions The Mason Many thanks may be laid upon your hands Good woman, but fear not about my peace For in fact, I've travelled to Canewdon To meet the Cunning Man you speak of The Miller Why would you do that, sir, if I may ask? The Mason To seek for a piece of advice I need And to discuss a few other matters The nature of which I was forbidden To disclose The Smith Are you of the masons, sir? I can see your ornaments and weapon And that fine signet ring, all bear features Of no ordinary craftsmanship... The Mason Yes, I'm a Rosicrucian, a member of Societas Rosicruciana in Anglia I'm here to consult Mr. Pickingill Whom many of us hold in high esteem However, I would really like to hear More of your intriguing stories, please First Peasant Toad-wytche, a toad-wytche he is, the Devell The Mason A Toad-witch? And what's that if I may ask? First Peasant You ketch a hoppin' toad and bury it In a Black Ants' nest till black-boones are left Second Peasant You serch a rare toad with a yellow ring Round its neck, and take the bone to the brook At midnight till the Devil come to you And pull you over the water and then... First Peasant ...you kin be a wytche and dew badness charms The Mason And what's the story with your local priest?

Submitted by NecroGod — Feb 18, 2026

Malform me, torment me mute my joy, twist my sight, make my days as dark as night come demons, come devils feast on me, feast on me make me a symbol, tear me apart to abominations I offer my heart Primitive existence, superstitious secret fancies for the morbid prevail life put to no avail mind eaten by sickening myths ridden with holy grace and tales of tormentors corrupted lusts ablaze to the joy of false mentors Come, possess me, the demon's power hate for the cross begins to flower the purity of heart you will deflower god, oh, please, see me from your (distant) tower I will walk the path of thorn hail me you who dared to scorn and doubted, and lived forlorn to the torment of failth may you be born Obscured reality unholy bestiality pain divine reason denied Before the redeemer will return lord, for thy glory I burn

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 26, 2025