ire

weaving a spell on the air
the ominous cur stirred demons
otherwise sleeping in the shadows

upon the witches' tongue their delight
a venomous design to keep the soul and leave the flesh
betwixt two worlds they walk into the grey day
wrangling the powers that be
who in their rested state do no harm
but when the fire brews and the smoke rises

they utter a dark slurry of fated ill
to damn a soul and keep it for a pet
unruly night cursed it had just put its need to bed

now it burned for goon of its own
pacing to and fro it searched
then when in gloom's sight
it did see perched on a window seal
just the right being
keeper of visions
reap this fornicator of fates and make him mine

as midnight approach
send me the victim of my choosing
so summoning her last reserves
she reach to the stars and struck the night

causing the man dazed
to follow her into the haze
where she dine on the riches of his being