Undercover of the dark skies late at night.
The witches soar in flight.
They come every hundred years.
To gather children and meet with their peers.
Magic spell books and brooms litter the ground.
Where the witches gather magic spells dwell.
Children collected against their well.
Bat wings boil and witches toil over their cauldrons.
Run little children, the nights just begun.
Turning children to rodents for fun.
Some to boil in witches brew.
Soften up children's bones to chew.
Blood boils and bones burn.
Stirring and stirring, bodies churn.
Witches gather around and cackle.
Chanting spells, by the power of moonlight.
Bring forth to me children this night.
Black magic dwells.
The witches chanting.
Excited over their kills.
Run little children the nights just begun.
Snatched from their beds and left for dead.
The head witch overlooks it all.
She calls all the witches near.
They cheer in evil delight.
Their spells can't be broken or tamed.
There's no hunter to set them aflame.
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Self Made Poetry 2
PoetryMy self written poetry, of different varieties. All writing is original, artwork is not mine.
