Hands That Hide

A mirror-cipher for revenge to curse the man who serves me ill
I right the wrongs that have been done of molded fate and steer his will
I make of wax an image small and cast it in a boiling pot
Of molten form beneath the surface so deep within commence to rot

An evil figure lies within
The mirror's smooth and silver skin
Let all my darkest works be done
By hands that hide from sight and sun

Light the candles and see the fire and wake the damned to do my bid
I feel the power of suggestion my enemies I pray to rid
So turn to stone from front to back the nights of terror without sleep
In your coffin your limbs are bound thy face the loathsomeness shall creep

Prepare the table and mark the stone I'll focus on your eternal doom
Apply the poisons to address the one I target to entomb
Beneath the surface you'll feel the wrath your eyes will never again see the light
Such acts of retribution be the victim to my spell tonight