Oh wretched, filthy, witches of thee,
tell me,
am I the sinner you want me to be?

I have longed for the moment,
where kindness turns against me,
and karma
overtakes me.

Years of forgiveness show no purpose,
vengeance is now the only truth I hold,
knife in one hand,
mercy in my imagination.

Drive me to the point beyond repair,
your magicks were illusive,
when I was fighting the spell,
it was draining me of 'nice' energy.

Your goal was never to **** me all in oneself.
Oh no,
A goal I could not see,
It was to drive me to broken glass
shards of pain
against melancholy skin,

oh,

it was... it was to make sure my anger was not relieved after it was gone,

b
u
t

to make me regret it for the rest of my days.

My blood still boils like your cauldron,
I still regret,
that I let
thee witches
push me
over
the
edge.