Wytches

Drawn in the Earth

A pentagram indented.

A cauldron sits

Beneath her

The final ingrediant

Flies into

The bubbling stew

Her sisters fly overhead

Wooden steeds

Tight Between their legs

Storms chase

To Their every command.

No one is safe

From a wytches wrath

The smoke rises

Into the great grey sky

The final words

Fall delicately from

Her soft lips

All enemies

Shall burn.

Hell Hath no fury

Like Wytches scorned

Author's Note

What do I always say?

Reviews

[Tori]

wicked man! IT reminds me about X-men "Hell have no fury like a woman's scorn." Awesome poem. Witches are cool and you defintely proved it to be so! Great job, as always!

[We are young.]

Cool, very magical, and descriptive, I really really like it, (what else can I say)

[Arthur Crow]

Hell yes! This is my kind of poetry.. loved the flavour of this one. Well scribed all the way.

Your words have set my pagan blood on fire!

[Ice Queen of the Vampir..]

This is a great piece. Wonderful descriptions and I really like the format. Nice work!!!

Heather

[That Weirdo You Just Mi..]

That is really good. How do you come up with all this? Am I a witch? I don't think I am. Do you?

[Kaela Craven]

It reads like a long haiku. Those short, quick phrases. I love magical poetry, stories, movies and anything I can get my hands on. So, this was very pleasing to me. Nice work.