The Witch 

It was that time of the night, near mid night
The mist crept into the fractured moonlight
Bone chilling , reflecting the red moon sky
Creatures of the night all ready for flight

Then a caravan stopped , my throat went dry
A figure in black came out I choked a cry
Quickly hiding behind a tree I froze
It turned into a white swan ready to fly

At once it changed into a sprite and rose
Searching me , sensing me , as if she knows
Beads of sweat formed on me in mortal dread
Her hissing and pacing increased my woes

Quite sure that soon I would be beheaded
The forest would resound with my bloodshed
Knowing the hounds of hell followed , I fled
I still shiver and will on my deathbed

                              © Lalarukh Lasharie


Popular Posts