Artist: Ravon

The Conjuring
By: JoAnna Martin

By day she is secluded-
everyone thinks she is strange.
But by night everyone is eluded
as she takes on a mysterious change. 
Four robed silhouettes arrive at her door
and she welcomes them one by one.
The conjuring circle is drawn upon the floor.
Beneath the horizon heads the sun.
Sitting in a circle they all joins hands.
The lights are turned down low. 
On the wall the shadows dance
from the flickering orange candle glow.
Being sure to keep their concentration
on the one black candle in the middle.
The high priestess begins the invocation
as the others tense and keep a silent vigil.
From the Book she calls the infernal names
awaiting the secrets of the dark to be revealed.
The spirits rise to their mischievous games
unveiling phantasmal images so unreal.
Five pairs of eyes are filled with wonder
seeing things never seen before.
They fail to hear the distant thunder
and the raging winds that death explores.
They chant their incantations.
The black clouds are coming near.
Oblivious to the evil emanation
that should have them gripped with fear.
From the flame bursts a haunting shadow,
a black phantom with eyes flaring red.
With a skeletal hand, out reaches the foe  
and grabs the priestess - her eyes filled with dread.
With its bony hand around her throat,
leaving her desperately gasping for breath,
she flails her arms and legs while the spirit just gloats-
he knows in just moments she’ll meet an ugly death.
He lifts her body up close to his
as she hangs there motionless with fear. 
Her reflection in his eyes is the last thing she glimpses,
down her cheek rolls a salty tear.
"One last time you will kiss goodbye"
says the demon to his prey.
Lightning darts across the sky
as he takes pleasure on this sacred day.
He opens his mouth, the endless hole,
and presses it hard to her lips,
drawing the deepest breath he sucks out her soul
with a diabolical and most deadliest kiss.
Silent cries of desperation
make their way throughout the room
as the ceremony ends in desecration
and a cold wind blows from the Angel of Doom.
To the floor he lets her body drop 
and raises his arms to the sky,
not wanting the amusement of mayhem to stop- 
he hisses "Now its time for the others to die."
A black mist creeps about their feet,
and suddenly they can’t get in air,
convulsing and gasping, they know they are beat
by the fiend that came forth from the candles glare.
The very essence of life departs from them all
as their bodies slump to the floor.
Their chests no longer rise and fall.
Their hearts will beat no more.
The circle is broken eternally
as five bodies lie motionless on the ground.
Stripped of their lives and souls so mercilessly, 
demonic laughter is the only sound.
All life has slowly drifted away,
caught in the backfire of a spirits spell.
They should have known better than to play 
with the supreme powers of Hell.


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