skiming the darkness I wait
something will surface it always does
drawn to me from deep within
occult larceny, stealing from my health
draining me of my thoughts
taking my strength
the horde hunts its own
magic undisturbed calls to me
with questions of should I?
wield the power so naturally there
conficted grey, I was taught it was bad
grievous error, suffer not a witch I ask why?
fear grows, the horde approaches
sensing my magic crackle
it is with decided direction
my target in place I strike
not wrath but retribution is had
they will not hunt their own
Rated for Mature(17+)
crackle
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Summary:
the horde
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