Come in, come in, my little one, the spell has taken hold!
For though the sweat drips from your brow, it seems your flesh is cold…
And sickness grips your stomach such that nothing there remains,
Your blood and urine honey sweet, and acid fills your veins!
But fear ye not, my little one, a poultice I will make
To stop the shaking of your limbs and thirst you cannot slake!
So lie down on the feathered bench whilst I prepare the charm
And soon the anguish in your mind will be replaced with calm!
Before I act to make you well, a contract you must sign,
And whilst you hold to all its rules the spell remains benign!
But should you stray but for a day, then havoc will you reap,
And it may be that demons come to take you in your sleep!
So take this spike to pierce your flesh, should e’er you wish to eat,
If you would save your eyes and heart, and long retain your feet!
The juices in this vial serve to pacify your food
Without it, live a hellish life, with foul and blackened mood!
You must perform the ritual till dawns the far off day
The curse is lifted from your kind, and only then you may
Tear up the contract, cast away the sharp and bloodied spike,
Then go out to the restaurant and order what you like!