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Posts tagged ‘witch craft’

The Crimson Witch

 Written by Ann LeFlore a witches tale into the dark and mysterious side of Halloween. The spirit of the season is drawing upon us and the time is near for the witches and warlocks to start to cast their spells upon the lands.

The Crimson Witch


She creeps in the middle of the night
Slowly wandering beside the leafy stream
Held in her nut-brown hands one crystal ball set a glow
Telling stories of how the world should be

 The luring of her cryptic song wakes the village below
Piercing through the night calling for all to come
The intoxicating rhythm rings through the air
Drawing the unsuspected nearer to her dark and dirty spell

The village people float through the air
Lifting up and flying on the song birds tail
Like the pied piper calling his sheep
She brings them there for her to keep

 Held in her crimson creepy grace
The spill is binding no one shall escape
The words are addicting floating together as one
Gathering together her goose
To pluck their feature one by one

 The people fall beneath her cherry stained feet
Her out stretched decaying arms
Brings them in closer looking beneath her charm
Sinking under her sidereal stained dark eyes

 Gaze into my crystal ball set upon a fearsome glow
The magic held within my hands
Will give you life beyond these lands
Upon the orchard’s tangled path
The golden-red has turned to brown

 One by one they start to near entangled in her grace
One swipe of her nail across their face
The translucent blood starts to flow
Drinking in her grace one touch and she will know

 She tastes the salty tear stained bloody cheeks
One by one she sees into their soul
Gazing into her crystal ball the story has been told
Each person is drawn beneath her spill

 One by one they can’t escape
Transforming into a liquid lave
Dripping between her fingers sitting in her hands
Sucking out the juices that spill upon the lands

 One by one she plucked their life
Held it in her hands
Gathered up her magic ball
To float high upon the lands

 She is not made of human form
Her life is yet to be know
What untold secrets rest between
Her dark and deadly hold

 She floats high above the lands
Blowing flames of cyclamen and rose
She sucks the flames from their eyes
To touch their perfect nostrils
And they too flame gently like a pale rose

 Next time you shall see her
Drowned between the lands
For I have meet her drinking from the sands
Standing in her gypsy gown crystal ball in hand
Begging all to see the riches of her lands