The Witch

Not a wolf dressed in wool, just a wolf
Feigning curiosity, I made a pact
Manipulated and turbulent had I won?
Misshapen yellowed teeth, taunting
Dubious sentiments render her cackle unpleasant

I had been warned and yet I had to see
With my own two eyes I witnessed
Manic orders, reaches for power
She craved what she disallowed herself
By no fault of another. She tried it.

Mishaps, open ears and open mouths
Once bitten and still not shy, she persevered
Credit where it's due, she was unparalleled
Many it slain many it tried
Our wills were too strong for her spite

Burnt and ashy red hair unwashed
Aural assaults, unwavering stands
A smile of mine warranted one of her own
Thus I never smiled
A smile of hers warranted one of mine
Thus I avoided her gaze

By night she was vulnerable
By day she was craven and unkind
Abdication of responsibilities, and yet
were another to do as she
Hell would rise in her eyes

Her face would tell a story -
The history of her work
Cracked, with a harrowing pitch of crow's feet
Angelic herself she portrayed
The key to her deception, her heart

Rising up, by way of physical ascension
Did not equate to a risen ambition
Unsuccessful and out of manoeuvres
Karma could never regret her decision
For the witch's demise

From the ashes she will descend once more
Upon victims unsuspecting
My pact had come to fruition, another she shall plague
Unfortunate are those to understand
The consequences of her confidentiality

She will torment anew with deprivations
Of liberty of kindness of trust
Take pride in appreciating her arduous
laborious ethics
For the witch was slain but
by no means of another