Here in the depths of winter a gentle but harrowing voice calls to you.
As the wind blows through barron trees you hear the voice of Hecate.
The bare limb branches speak to you by power of Earth, and force of Air.
A blanket of snow reflects the Moon, and here she also calls.
Her cold breath stings in bitter widom, that which howls upon the ear.
The solice of this winter night gives hail unto the Crone.
The Sun of soon we celebrate, tonight we hail the Moon.
And thus tonight the Hounds of Hecate emerge to us as Cerberus,
Our eathern death is here in depth, but soon the Sun shall be renewed.
And here in death the Moon has waned, and in it shadows fall.
The mask of Hecate, Anubis, and Anu still lingers under fallen snow.
The spirits of Hades sparkle in the night with love from consort Persephone.
Here within the Witches rise and power flows from within.
The rhythm of Earth in wisdom and art,
Merry ye meet, and Merry ye part.
HAIL HECATE!
HAIL HADES!
HAIL PERSEPHONE!
HAIL CERBERUS!
HAIL ANUBIS!
HAIL ANU!
In Nominee de nostri Satanas Luciferi Excelsil...
Raven Brimstone
