The Witches Bells of Hell Part 1

I'm going to write a poem from the top of my head Similar to how a farmer maintains a homestead There once was a witch who thought she was dead But in reality she was just sick in the head Every day she'd swear she was in hell Convinced as she was, her evidence proved pale She grew stranger by the day, covering her face with a black veil Forgetting to bathe her scent went stale In her mind she thought she was well Poor wicked witch who thinks she hears bells, Drowning in her personal hell Wandering out of her cabin, she pursues a insane notion She begins howling at the wolves, causing a great commotion Chased by wolves, she's driven into the ocean Soaking wet, uncontrollably she frets Her ragged gown flushed from dust and her body from sweat, The crazy witch is fetched out by a fishermen's net Act 2 Hit her head trying to get in the boat, she sounds her own bell The witch is knocked cold as a door nail She got a bath today, poor witch who thinks baths are in hell Shes awakes in the fishermen's house Crazy witch begins to chase a mouse Sprinting like a crazed goat, the fishermen kicks her out and throws her in a boat Poor witch sails off into the open sea Dreary is she of fates decree Alone and rocking in a rickety boat Amazed is she that she could even float