Incantation

For no apparent reason had the women been drawn in
 Where rows of dusty books lay in an ominous display
 But one ancient leather binding had the grain of human skin
 And seized with curiosity, she stole that book away
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 And now she sat alone in the concealment of the night
 Well, she was hungry now to liberate the writings from their cage
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 The glimmer of a feeble moon provided her with light
 As she opened up the cover and began to read the page
 Fly, soul, the body's guest
 Upon your impish arrant
 Let none be guided by false confession
 The truth shall be your warrant