A witch you called, a witch you fervently cursed

A "witch" you called, a "witch" you fervently cursed, and a witch you shall see, for my eyes pierce the darkness of your ignorance, this neck is not for your cutting, these wrists are not for your chains, but they are mine to use, to dance around the fire that burns in the core of my soul. And I will use them well, igniting your souls with the wood you prepared for burning, I will shackle your minds and open them with force, with the chains you humbly offered me, you refuse to see, but I will make you look deep into the truths you have avoided, I will show you the price of my blood you thought you could spill without consequence. For in every curse spoken without thought, in every chain forged to bind me, lies a power you ignore, a magic that refuses to be subdued, and in the fire you lit for destruction, I will be reborn, a living flame, transforming your fear into understanding, and ignorance into pure knowledge. For I am not a shadow to be banished with empty words, but I am the storm that will stir your sleeping souls, and you will understand that the witch you fear is nothing but the mirror in which your truth is reflected, a truth that can no longer be hidden.