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Jun 2016
After all the carnage I did imparte
The gypsies thought I had mastered the dark art
When I left thatΒ Β wretched gypsy caravan
Anyone that had wronged me, their  blood spilled on the sand

With their tongues like parchment
They told darkened stories, and I was their target
And as I slowly roamed the land
To seek out about my mother first hand
The villagers seen my burnt skin
And knew I was the one the gypsies said carried great sin
Every human treated me badly, to scared to get close they threw their stones
So I sought out a place where no human ever goes

I found a forest but to sunny for my mood
It had to be darker, it had to be crude
So I started out simple and enchanted the vines
I made them all twist entangle and entwine
next was the trees I made them grow branches to cover the sky
so even from the keen eye of the hawk I could hide
But not done with them yet the bark I made bare
Thorns that would reach out and scratch and tear
The sand I made quiken to entrap in and ensnare
So anyone caught in my wicked trap could no longer breathe the air
My wonderland was soon renamed the Black Forest
all that dared entered claimed they heard the demon's chorus

And so my legend was born
The gypsies through their stories warn
Of a dark hearted witch that the fires couldn't burn
Even though their fires burnd white hot and the coals they churned
That I the black hearted witch had escaped and layed waste
In despite their fear they had given chase


So now alone I roam my beautiful dark place
With the gypsies warning story no one will give chase
But in my roaming before the forest I had heard a great tale
Of a witch who had put her baby under a spell
That upon it was put a curse
That would work in reverse
Pauline Morris
Written by
Pauline Morris  51/F/Southern Illinois
(51/F/Southern Illinois)   
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