Behold! What brews in that cauldron?
Shimmering plumes of crimson mist rises in the air.
Bewitching our minds, ensnaring our hearts,
It has robbed us of our senses.

Behold! What brews in that cauldron?
Tunes of seduction play in the air,
Emerging from lips redder than the reddest rose,
It has taken us into a daze of brazen desires.

Behold! What brews in that cauldron?
Damsels, full of wanton voluptuousness, surround us from all sides.
Dressed in white and mother pearls.
Their mere sight has enslaved us.

Behold! What brews in the cauldron?
The maidens are pretty and seem delicate,
But their crimson eyes bespoke danger,
For if we relent, they shall falter not,
From stopping our breaths once for all.

Behold! What brews in the cauldron?
They call themselves the nymphs of Aphrodite,
Equal to their mistress in beauty and grace,
And just like her, their nails are long and sharp,
Designed to draw blood from these necks so soft.

Behold! What brews in the cauldron?
The maids take our hands one by one,
And lead us to the boiling cauldron,
We step into its fire without a moment's doubt,
Dancing with them without rest, stopping only in death's embrace.

~•~