the dark arts

  
the owls hoot at midnight
blowing on Northern winds  
casting for their own  
   
you saw me there  
in the cold night air  
shivers up and down my spine  
you whispered hush now  
don't cry for music astray  
   
the old man died in his sin  
you resurrected ideas of old  
behold the pain of the blue bloods  
and the new bloods alike  
   
gin and tonic eases nerves  
when magic is cast blindly and unawares  
bring them down from the rafters  
with voodoo and black magic found true  
   
under the cover of darkness  
internally do damage  
externally cause chaos  
   
repair and lift the loyal  
for the faithful brothers and sisters  
with down-home love  
   
hoot, hoot, hoot, says the owl  
feasting off the pestilence of the land
eats the varmint whole  
spits out the bones