on syths and dark artistry
venom spilled and harlotry
it is mystics gift to feel everything
as the night deepens and dark descends
my soul wanders my life to defend
looking at ghouls and madmen
undefined creatures of the horde
sanity kept deep within
my sanctuary is not my body
it is the spirit inside of it
swirling the mists then spit
a taste of mischief in the offering
a cult of a chaotic need
a little of this a dash of that
some stones to center
some quartz to calm
it is obscene to whisper to demonkind
they love to gossip of this you’ll find
of treacherous greed and wanton lust
a defilement of devils who are wrongly crowned
sinister touch to alter fate
my soul is under the mercy seat
a witch of natural gift
with no elixr do I hex
a spell on the air in jest
that being said I am guarded
my cats are eyes where I can’t be
my spiders listen to my thoughts carefully
their poison to flow when they sneak up on you
halted breath. some bad ju, ju
it is my mojo it flows caustically
inside the curse you stutter
tripping on lies and bigotry
my faith shelters
your dark drains you
what you wish for me be upon your head
Happy Halloween, this is so good. I like how you were telling us now to whisper to demon kind because it is obscene.
hello beautiful Fia thank you for the love on this… tis the spirit of the season ❤️
Hauntingly penned, Brenda. That’s a Halloween story my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
thank you graciously dearest Damian I appreciate you ❤️