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Witch of the Woods
- Witch of the Woods -
Her garments long and as black as night,
Move silently, in the absence of the light.
Silently, she winds her hungering way…
To find living flesh, upon which to prey!
In woods where only the foolish do go,
She waits unseen where shadows grow.
Even children are not safe, in her claws,
Nor the rat, which upon corpses gnaws!
Seeking to steal souls to keep her youth,
To stave off the ugliness of her untruth…
Her fingers knock upon old hollow trees.
To match the shakings of: scared knees!
In woods where madmen had their hour,
When the horned moon reveals a power.
That is when she comes, to drink blood,
And to steal the souls, to slake the flood;
Of time which ravages her hard visage…
As hard as a mountain rough and savage.
And so with a lust for what she once had,
Her claws drink deep, to drive men mad.
Twisting twigs and breaking bones apart,
The witch of the woods had not a heart…
And she tears one from a sleeping fellow.
Her cackling a song not gentle or mellow,
But shrill as the banshee who wails loud…
Beware the witch who wears the shroud!
Her garments long and as black as night,
Move silently, in the absence of the light.
Silently, she winds her hungering way…
To find living flesh, upon which to prey!
In woods where only the foolish do go,
She waits unseen where shadows grow.
Even children are not safe, in her claws,
Nor the rat, which upon corpses gnaws!
Seeking to steal souls to keep her youth,
To stave off the ugliness of her untruth…
Her fingers knock upon old hollow trees.
To match the shakings of: scared knees!
In woods where madmen had their hour,
When the horned moon reveals a power.
That is when she comes, to drink blood,
And to steal the souls, to slake the flood;
Of time which ravages her hard visage…
As hard as a mountain rough and savage.
And so with a lust for what she once had,
Her claws drink deep, to drive men mad.
Twisting twigs and breaking bones apart,
The witch of the woods had not a heart…
And she tears one from a sleeping fellow.
Her cackling a song not gentle or mellow,
But shrill as the banshee who wails loud…
Beware the witch who wears the shroud!
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