Hag

Trampling the hood, under her feet, 
Everyday, she enters hermit for sanity 
chanting runes from the holy writ, 
She veils her fragile mind with divinity. 

With morning drop of gelid dew, 
etches her battle with anarchy of mind, 
And when dust settles in the air, 
She reposes with a fray in her mind. 

Each passing seconds, her crippled fingers, 
meanders through crevices of her darn skin. 
mocking the fallible with her grey vengeance, 
Her parched eyes looks solemnly at the skies. 

When lunatic moon glimmers on her face, 
She again follows the ruins of her remnant smile, 
Her obscure face still croons that hexed night, 
While she jaunts on her travails of destiny.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like this poem. Create good character with powerful description. What roamed in the night. Need to be left alone. Thank you for a excellent poem.
Coyote

[Poetic Beauty]

This reminds of a witch out at midnight. waiting to cast a spell or two. Great write.

[Robbie~xoxo~]

Marvelously intricate words used, describing the "Hag". Great write! :)