A paper at hand, and fire before,
A gentle padding locks the door.
The sky still black, the candle's warm,
The city waits for its fatal charm.
The words are spoken, the spell released,
Calling upon the recently deceased.
A hot summer breeze turns too cold,
A moment from pages better left untold.
A pull, a scream—no eyes, no sight,
A sudden possession consuming the night.
Silent scars, wounded with pain,
A planchette done, sinister and insane.
Twists in bones, fear in the soul,
A haunting truth beyond control.
Nowhere to run, no way to stop,
Cursed for blood, drop per drop.