Oh Dark Moon who gives no light
Your beauty is no less this night.
Crone I honor your gentle reaping of mine
I surrender that which has out lived it's time.
Sing over the loss of blood and bone
Return it all to dust or stone.
So I may rejoice and so too grieve
For the new to come and the old to leave.
The womb without and within
I honor my dance red widdershin.
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