At last I was free
From under her spell
I said to myself
Climbing out of the well

But a strange feeling
Came into my head
As I mulled over the words
That I had just said

I wanted to go back
With or without the curse
Whether it was stockholm syndrome
Or something far worse

So I climbed back down
To the young witch's lair
Who despite her occupation
Was beautiful and fair

I explained my position
As she listened with surprise
Or so I thought
As I looked in her eyes

After hearing my request
To stay by her side
She seemed to break down
And nearly cried

She said she was no witch
Just a practicer of magic
But her skills were lacking
And her results quite tragic

I felt for her I did
But she was young and sly
And I could not tell
If it was the truth or a lie

In the end however
I did not really care
She was my beautiful witch
And I'd follow her anywhere