The Cult of Thäthr

Concealed in their long robes and deep hoods
coloured in mysterious camouflage-black.
Hidden from the eyes of the public in dark woods
to which has been hung their vicious daemon-flag.

Decaying odour, flaming eyes, crooked poise,
sharpened teeth, corrupt words, gruff voice:
their Leader now conducts the feverish chants
calling for their blasphemous Deity. Like ants
the Cultists blindly follow. Without a question
commit brutal deeds from the slightest suggestion.

From words that have seemed to follow an irregular
pattern, now can be distinguished a peculiar
sentence, repeated with special tone, care:
"Aimrehd slhatinghnah cpo Thäthr alrl fær!"

My veins they freeze: no blood will run.
My ears being tormented by those words
waging utmost terror: impossible, undone.
The next phase of the age-long ritual lurks:
I have come to notice it all has just begun.

Now is brought forth the Cult's sacrificial victim:
a young female child, approximately seven in age.
And escorted by the very same abhorred dictum,
the God of Oblivion shall receive her in a burning cage.

Observing all this, gobsmacked I am, so tells my face,
I have not thought of the safeness of my dwelling-place.
This unforgivable mistake soon is proven to be fatal:
pierced by the savagery spears, I am merely a mortal.