Coven of Thirteen
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Poem by: bellavistabear
Beneath a full moon, in a darkened sky
There is a blanket of fog on the ground.
In a run down shack outside of town.
Thirteen witches will be found.
A steaming cauldron
And a Black flame candle.
Eye of toad and wing of bat
A potion, they dare not mishandle.
At precisely the stroke of midnight
The powers of thirteen.
Shall forever bind this mortals soul
To a hell, he can not see.
With the powers of this coven
Revenge, we take on thee.
May your days be forever cursed
By this Coven of Thirteen.
From the depths of the cauldron
There came a gurgling sound.
Fire flew from their fingertips
It then boiled over, spilling onto the ground.
Alone in a darkened corner
Their victim would be found.
Stripped to the waist, and chained to the wall
He screamed but could not make a sound.
They filled their silver chalices, the sisters one by one
They poured the scalding liquid, like wax upon his chest.
The searing pain, tore through his heart.
From this day forward, his soul would never rest.
© Copyright 2018 bellavistabear. All rights reserved.
Comments
Great work. A coven? Sounds more like most of the girls I've been out with lol. Well written and presented. Keep it up!
Author
Reply
Thanks! Your feedback is always appreciated!
Thanks again,
Brian
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