A Witches Dream

A screeching laugh comes through the cracks of the door.
She stood slumped over her hair to the floor.
She cackled as she stirred her pot of roots and toads.
The fire burned as the cauldron nearly overflowed.

“I’ll mix this well and stir it fast
For I need powers that will forever last!”
The skin on her hands was wrinkled from age
Yet her fingers continued to sprinkle the sage.

“Tis almost time to visit the lost
I’ll give them some of my roots no matter the cost.
I”ll see them burn in pits of fire
They will forever be captured by satan the liar!”

“No need to lock your door for I hold the key.
I’ll come into your room and you will never see.
Tis a witches dream to steal a soul.
I’ll do this as you listen to your Rock and Roll!”

This entry was posted on 260418H Jan 2011 and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.

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