Witch, softened word now by those who don’t believe, to those who equate it to cheap Halloween costumes with a black traffic cone hat. They aren’t mad at burning witches because they don’t think we should burn people, they laugh at us because they don’t think they exist.
White hair, made witch, what evil lurks inside your belly? Spouting words of good yet leaving a trail of blood, how can you justify the bodies in your wake? Oh savior of the broken, how far can we break you?
The witch pulled out the contents of her bag – dried geckos, a string of dried something that looked like ears, and a TV remote control. “All ready for the spell,” she said.
Witch, softened word now by those who don’t believe, to those who equate it to cheap Halloween costumes with a black traffic cone hat. They aren’t mad at burning witches because they don’t think we should burn people, they laugh at us because they don’t think they exist.
White hair, made witch, what evil lurks inside your belly? Spouting words of good yet leaving a trail of blood, how can you justify the bodies in your wake? Oh savior of the broken, how far can we break you?
The witch pulled out the contents of her bag – dried geckos, a string of dried something that looked like ears, and a TV remote control. “All ready for the spell,” she said.