Bide the Wiccan law ye must,
in perfect heart and perfect trust.
Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill
An' harm ye none, do what ye will.

What ye put forth comes back to thee,
so ever mind the rule of three.
Follow this with mind and heart,
Merry ye meet and merry ye part.

Intuition of a witch
Is not one for weak bones
You see our glitches make you twitch
It's now our bones you call home
I see everything
And anything
You're trying to explore
You're walking through a tunnel
and suddenly see a door
Twisting at its ****
Has you stopping in your tracks
You see now how I've got you
Turned from your own path?
We witches get these itches
That turn our chests to metal
That we specifically build into cages
for hearts to sleep and settle