Poem -



Light the wick, dear Virgin...bring the witches back;
Use your innocence to conjure up things malevolent and black.

Resurrect the evil child that rests beneath her skin;
The worm-infested creature that writes her name in sin.
A curse was scripted in the air on a cold October's Eve;
A spell that plagued a precious heart, where evil was conceived.
Laid to rest for centuries, years to plot revenge;
And with this lighted candle her pain is now avenged.
She lies in wait beneath the soil and ashes of her past;
And as the Black Flame flickers she will breathe again, at last.
Time is of the essence, for daylight will come soon;
She must carry out her malice underneath the eerie moon.
Who lit the Black Flame Candle? Who's innocent hand bled?
Who dared to bring her back to life? To raise her from the dead?
Who carried out this risky task? Who dabbled in the cause?
Who tested purgatory with no care for what is lost?
What gentle hand of virgin flesh bid this night to fall?
What precious soul defiled itself with a careless, silent call?
They must not know the malicious song that fell upon the earth;
They must not realize the depth of this God forsaken curse.
Oh! It does not matter! She will find a fragile heart!
She will mesmerize and tantalize and pick his soul apart!
She will captivate him with her eyes, so glorious and green!
She will steal the breath within his lungs like a sick, sadistic fiend.
The Black Flame flickers brilliantly as her victim takes her hand;
God rest the trusting, precious soul of this unknowing man...

-Kelly M. Gregory-πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–


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Gerard McGowan

Amazing, brilliant flow, well thought out, I love it.

​​​​​​Its all a bunch of hocus Pocus