The pentagram was annointed, 5 toes down. Swaying on top, then we gently indent the ground. Along the lines, we wish, we uphold our rights. Mafia like dog men, that continue to fight. Bite like wounds, our star ignites the seas. Pouring down rain, it then nourishes the seeds. "To make one drink," The Nommo that fell. Always on call, at the start of the bell. Then we settle down, we anoi…