Drop of blood
thrice haired with hog
symered add green 'neath log
Wishing thence
upon a stone
casts it whence
thou wisht it thrown
From pulsing toad
and weeping tree
it also yearns for blood from thee
Not while fire still doest burn
add the last to thine own urn
Thus the payn
will turn from thee
and fall upon thine enemies
Mix lover's blood
Drawn by knife
Symer long
to bring back life.
A bit of earth
from loved's grave
the blur of grief
will help to raise.
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