Pass The Totem

Around the fire her tale is told

The curse of Cathrine May

A cackle rises in the flames

Each time you say her name

The ravens call and crickets sing

A campfire melody

Lulled till no one suspects a thing

And this is what they say;

No black pots or cauldron bubbles

Needed to make you fall

Or damning chants and toiled troubled

Newt eyes or speckled frogs

No, she don’t need a rhyming spell

To peek into your soul

She skirts around the heart of hell

Till you’re the puppet she controls

Into the night, under the moon

Well past the midnight hour

A sacrificial dance ensues

Granting a never ending power

The subtle pop as embers rise

Calling the ones who’ve gone before

The vacant stares in hollow eyes

Reveal the souls she’s waited for

So pass the totem, trying warn them all

Beware the ghost of Catherine May

Paying heed to when crickets and ravens call

Knowing then, that it’s too late