In times of grief we take up our crosses,

Cry to the Above for strength in our weakness,

lick our wounds and count our losses,
Light candles to chase away the darkness.
Ask for forgiveness and pray for salvation,
Hope for the future, and bury our past.
Maleficers spit out their curses in frustration,
their wicked spells they will cast.
When hardship comes, they wash their woes in shame—

Their immortal soul is never the same.