A Recipe

Bring me the pupil of a dead lover’s eye
and the writhing, sick body of a copperhead snake.
Through this I shall give you the power to lie.

Give me the secrets of a man who has died
and the kerchief of one who has cried at the wake.
Bring me the pupil of a dead lover’s eye.

Seek out the market of the goblins and buy
the legs of a spider and the fangs of a drake.
Through this I shall give you the power to lie.

Show me, when the moon has dispensed with the tide,
the treasures that lie in the heart of the lake.
Bring me the pupil of a dead lover’s eye.

Tell me the things you are trying to hide,
the words that will have them burn you at the stake.
Through this I shall give you the power to lie.

For nothing is spared when one’s wants must die,
and all flesh will suffer and all bones will break.
Bring me the pupil of a dead lover’s eye.
Through this I shall give you the power to lie.

This post was salvaged from an old tumblr of mine that I really should get around to deleting. I liked this poem though. The photo is from my semester abroad in Wales. I thought it fit the mood of the poem.