The Sorceress
The sorceress scheming,
With contumely streaming,
The tusks standing proud in the light,
Preparing a potion,
With sordid devotion,
The lamp on the table so bright.
The wicker chair ready,
The dagger held steady,
The spells written boldly in ink,
The herbal libation,
The cold incantation,
With demons brought forth from the brink.
The cloak crafted finely,
With incense divinely,
Awakening puissance and might,
Arousing the powers,
Through shadowy hours,
With spell work cast into the night.
Racing in gravity,
Satan’s depravity,
Blemishing heaven’s fine silk,
Demonic roaring,
Unholiness soaring,
To torment the angelic ilk.
Eve must be raging!
This deviltry staging,
Her venom is sickly as bile,
And we know her power,
Wouldst Adam devour,
Since crushing him flat is her style!
The owl in the willow,
Sees smoke in a billow,
Flown out from the stack on the roof,
In loud lamentation,
He makes protestation,
And hoots to the midnight aloof…
🦉
adamdaniel 