Rites of the Full Moon

24. srpna 2018 v 17:09 | ellen
The Fire blazed forth, eating away at the precious wood. We blessed it with the Juniper branch, tree of my ancestors.
The spirits were called by drum and calls, across time and space, for the concepts are meaningless to us.
The Devil's Light filled us, and the toxic wines made us drunk with joy.
We danced, singing the Sabbath Round, and became likened to a wind and a cloud. We moved the skies with our weaving spells, and the cold, milk-white light of the Moon shone down upon us. We drank it in, becoming high on the illuminating presence.
We drank to our friends, we drank to the Kindred, we drank to our Ancestral dead.
We drank to ourselves.
We revelled in our freedoms, smoking the Holy Herb, and rubbing Poisonous Salves into our Skin to loosen our Flesh and set our Spirits free.
The Sabbath is done.
Ave Lucifer! Ave She is Who is All! Ave the Kindred!
It is done.