Feast of Feces

When the coven of ill-willed women seek revenge, from anyone they deem too big for their britches, They go to the book of sorcery for witches, In the book, they seek deliverance from women who shine brighter than morning stars, looking for panaceas and disasters, Brews that could curl their hair and tarnish their shoes, Nothing short of voodoo, They'd even stoop to mixing up batches of goulash, sprinkled with feces, and disguised by hash, Their boundaries are limitless when they want to anhiliate, They would go as far as tempting fate, A feast of feces becomes no trouble at all, when they want to cast anyone away, so they may become the Belles of the Balls.......