Hanging from the tattered coattails of witchcraft,
making room in her heart for evil to graft.
It began with the death of the one she cherished,
love and sympathy had solemnly perished.
She turned to witchcraft to fill the gaping void,
restriction of sanity had been destroyed.
Black magic mended her broken heart,
making way for light to depart.
She led her companions into the abyss,
allies of darkness soaked in red mist.
The death of romance had unlocked her fetish,
with sins of pleasure her skin was embellished.
Her spirit still roams the whispering forest,
of illicit desire she is a purist.
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Nocturnal Lullabies (#Wattys2018 Winner)Poetry
Even within the deepest and most hideous depths of darkness, we may find a glimmer of beauty. Gothic, gloomy and macabre poetry. Featuring works inspired by phantoms, occultism, vampires, cursed maidens, tragic monsters and other haunting themes sur...