The Witch’s Revenge
Pain trickles through my
Ancient fingers like
A faceless ghost
I am my own worst enemy
The witch floats downwards
With her wand like a bone
Painted black
I haven’t any cauldron
I do not own a cat
I was a witch in a past life
Giving death a wry smile
It was enough to make the winter
Take flight
I came to heal the trees
And show the men
When Halloween is near
I am the devil
Make no mistake of that
Enjoy this captivating article preview? Don’t miss out on the profound revelations awaiting you in Metaphysical Times. Head to our newsstand to grab the current issue or subscribe now to receive a year’s worth of mystical insights delivered right to your door! 🌙”