A Witches Embrace

Religion was forged to keep us in chains,
A lie whispered soft to silence our flames.
They spoke of submission as God’s decree,
But some of us carry Lilith’s legacy.
 
Witches, we wield the primordial might,
A power unspoken, yet burning bright.
Do not ask how—I simply know,
This truth is etched in the marrow below.
 
It’s no man who belongs at the sacred stand,
But a woman commanding, her voice to expand:
"Take up your brooms, sisters, let the ritual flow,
With mudras of power, let the energies grow."
 
No longer divided by envy or shame,
We’ll gather together, kindling our flame.
For we are the weavers of energy’s thread,
The ancient architects the world once led.
 
They tried to destroy us with fire and stake,
Fearing the spells only witches could make.
They warned the sons to shun our embrace,
Painting us as shadows they had to erase.
 
But no more shall we bow, no more shall we break,
Together, my sisters, the throne we will take.
Through whispers and winds, through fire and storm,
We reclaim our place, as we were reborn.
 
NP