Wiccan Lust

I courted flame, a solemn dance, my furnace fair, a subtle
Trance. And zealot love, our passion wild, a maze aflame,
To wound the crowd. My heart affect, the gash of love, a
Panic flare, a bleeding dove. For Wiccan spell, the hells of
Lust, the kiln of pride, the spirit flushed. And near the grave,
A gothic charm, a gust of pain, a tear alarm. But ache the
Core, a raging urge, to sore forgive, a trystic surge. Thus the
Passion, affected gloom, the death of soul, a blatant wound.

I courted flame, a solemn dance, my furnace fair, a subtle
Trance. And rabbit love, a habit pang, a tragic tale, the throes
Of bane. My furtive asp, the puce of blood, a heart to
Bleed, the need of love. For claret wine, a brief escape, a
Torch aflame, the pain of fate. And Wiccan spell, the hells
Of lust, the kiln of pride, the spirit flushed.