Compensatorysacrificial ritual to the GoddessCally

You whores should give me all your children,
because you whores dared to look at my man
and think something.

this woman with the chicken hair came right to our house. And she wore a gypsy-sleeved blouse over her bloated torso. It's offensive.
Who is this whore in my house I'd like to ask with a curl of chicken passion.

Darling, put on your glasses, don't be shy,
your feet don't look good in heels,
but you're a bucket, dragging yourself down here to seduce my man?
And he didn't mind?
Is that so?
Another one? Your son more than him, shame on you.

And accordingly,
each and every whore in this space owes me their children.
Now the reckoning with the local whores for their debts is nearly complete.
I am not bloodthirsty by any means.
But Cally's worship is a sacrifice of lambs.

Yeah, the Cally goddess algorithm works in the middle Russia,
in the guise of an old woman wearing a scarf tied with horns and a turtleneck,
as Agent Pelevin told us in his secret report.
The handkerchief should be tied around her forehead.
Well, she also flies around in a funeral shoe and a broom.
She lives in a shrine, a forest hut perched on a tall stump.
- - -
What are you doing?
I'm expurgating of letters all but the romantic words.
What?