The Craft

The Craft One must die to be reborn From witch's rite the soul is torn Baptized in the flames of death Then live again from magic breath A witch's soul has seen beyond And I have grasped that broken dawn So I invoke this binding spell Send my foes to burn in hell Let their dance be one to see With voices pure from agony And let the world witness my wrath Light their dreams with hell's hot bath And show them sights that braise the soul Let them know this witch's role And warn the ones that come my way To cross this witch, what price they pay
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace