(Long, long ago, when people still believed in witches...)
-To wander longingly through the forest in search of mystery, but she herself was a haunted house. When night comes, the whole witch chorus follows anon. On brooms of blazing embers they ride, Jumping out of Hell-fire. The wind is hushed, The stars grow pale while the black cat cries to the moon. It was All Hallow's Eve, the ancient ones could tell. Where ghosts haunt their graveyard, Until the morning stars sang together.
(Here, in the forest, dark and deep, I offer you eternal sleep...)