An old hollow bowl
Inside it, a dead owl
Filled with charcoal
Buried in a hole
Under the light pole
On the crossroads
Opposite the graves
Near the witches dome
Where believed,
The dark spirits roam
I know this, coz I am,
A wandering soul
Others, the witches stole
I am a carefree witness
I saw, what he did
I saw what all he buried
I also saw the body he hid
And he thought,
Nobody saw his deeds
Planting a dead owl as a seed
Like some secret treasure
That no one can find
I looked closely
He buried, jewels of all kind
He has no idea,
What he had done!
The witch knows it all
Soon it will be his call
My friend, beware
Of the watchful unknown
There's an empty grave
Waiting,
With your name alone!

©sim