The witch.

The son of a Whitechapel witch,

 
Has charm. 
 
 
From a witch, of a witch, of a witch.
 
 
Turns out witches, prey on the weak.
 
 
You learn, not to take food or drink,
 
From a witch.
 
 
Not to kiss a witch.
 
 
Never let a witch touch your heart.
 
Don’t let her near your animals.
 
Don’t listen to words from a witch.
 
 
 
If they say one thing,
 
They always mean another.
 
 
They promise, love, wealth, success,
 
A Consolingly friend..
 
 
How I laugh at them.
 
 
 
 
Their poisons and potions.
 
Their wicked words and deeds.
 
 
Where ever they say the exit isn’t,
 
It is.
 
 
 
If they say your safe,
 
Your not.
 
 
 
If you can look into their eyes.
 
Watch as a child trips.. you see them.
 
A smirk. A delay in expression..
 
Its a dark thing to see,
 
My friend.
 
 
They walk like marionettes,
 
Surround themselves with fools.
 
 
 
Set a trap, for them.
 
Say your in danger,
 
Say your in need.
 
Watch them turn...
 
 
 
Leave a cup, 
 
with its handle to the left.
 
 
See its handle to the right,
 
When you return..
 
 
 
Misfortune seems to follow people
 
around them.
 
Their hands, behind their back..
 
 
But you know theres blood on it.
 
 
Remember, when you let them in.
 
 
Theres blood on your hands too..
 
To many people have died, 
 
By their hand.
 
 
 
Vile wretched inhuman hag, 
 
you have no power over me.
 
 
You feared huntsmen,
 
 
Now the mantle passes,
 
 
....to a Huntress.
 

 

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