The Hex of Seven Roses

“Seven roses of a sunburn bush, laid before the intended’s door. To drive the maddened heart to lust, ruin and tempestuous shore.

One rose each day is placed at the threshold before the break of dawn. That linger must the victim where the witch has glanced upon.

A key taken from the parish chapel, of the cemetery’s eastern gate. Unlocks the desires of those whose spirit is bound in horrid fate.

Five pins I took from the plaintiff’s dress, the seamstress did not miss. With these I bind the key to cloth, of whom I would but this.

A brass button from a dead man’s coat, found on a dust strewn road. An offering added to that binding, which with the pins I’ve tightly sewed.

An empty shell from a poisoned garden, where a widow has long grieved. Crushed under foot of travel so that the victim can’t be relieved.

Until one’s desire is slacken, they will never find true rest. But seek only that lust which destroys, and seizes one possessed.”