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spacewtchhh Aug 4
In a crowd of familiars
I pass through

of proust effect lingers
and someone greets me.

I see you at the dead of night
You of I thought long gone.

It just gives back the stare.

As its right hand lifts
with auras cast in awe,
energy flows through my spine,
I helplessly mirror what it did -

It points itself,

Then at me.

Spirits spell a curse or divine,
You of I thought killed,

Vanished into lucid flow of energy.

Dust permeates
and whispers my ear,

I never leave.
Megan H Jul 14
They ask me
Why I can't sleep.

Because I am a witch-
Wandering the night
Worshipping the moon and stars
Connecting with nature
And collecting my herbs.
Syv Elena May 29
I've spoken to my brother
It sure had been a while

I've spoken to my brother
Using cards from a pile

He gave me a little pick me up
He told me I should have more fun

But Mischief and Mayhem were long gone
When the springs of his clock had sprung

He recognized this and came with advice
"The memory of my mighty leap is dead weight in life"

He said so and I replied thus
bro what the ****
when he trolls u even in the afterlife :'3
ScaryGary Mar 16
He said he loves scary ****, so I took out a 7 inch buck knife, made in 1972, and I grabbed his wife by the scruff of her neck. I slowly cut his wife's throat from one ear, to the other. The sounds echoed in the modest home, and her blood sprayed all over his scared face. He died of a heart attack within minutes. At least he died doing something he loves...being scared...sorry he couldn't enjoy it longer
100% ****** uh oh better get geico
ScaryGary Mar 16
I have to prove this tonight. Mind over matter. Thought is sharper than any knife, and moves faster than any bullet. Thought leaves the body at 10,000 signals per second, if propagated correctly it goes directly to who you send it to. It grabs friends along the way. Friends who want to **** for you. They will hang out around the target and then actually go into others and into the target. They can take over cells, thought, and well being. I am sending them tonight. In a few moments I will release these white stallions to trample and to bite the backs of the dark ones who travail in the shadows. No hiding. I know the routes to send them. There will be a lot of friends. The good spirits that are beaten down and awaiting their bodies to finish the dying process. They are in purgatory. I help them, and they are thankful for me, as I am thankful for them. I hope they are more gentle this time...I truly do.
This is my real life. This is science, with the things I've known since I was a child. I may be insane but thought aspires to become reality. I can close my eyes and watch someone die a million times within and hour. I am willing to put in that work.  Craft
Filomena Mar 4
The mage with her sage
was cleaning her cage
imagining tragedy's
angels engage

She erected a sigil
protecting her vigil
a palindrome had in Rome
angst to assuage

As she brought out her cards
she thought of the bards
had her spirit inherited
some of their ways?

When she put them away
she had nothing to say
and the guides of her writing
were silent for days
Late evening of Thu. Mar. 3, 2022
This pessimistic version was written first.
Elaenor Aisling Oct 2021
I move through the woods in ritual
The trees have shed their leaves like
Third sons and eldest daughters,
They cling bravely until the wind uncurls their hands
and bears them away from home.  
A scavenger, I search them out, hold them between finger and thumb,
Their last embrace.

Sometimes I will pluck a fading life from a branch,
melded amber and crimson,
the dregs of sun in their veins,
offered in the last vibrance of summer’s heat.
At home, I press them between pages,
tiny spells of weight and gravity
cast to keep their color.
I know this magic,
Autumn and I are kindred in this,
Our eyes are the same soft green and sepia of hiraeth
cradles of remembrance,
nets always cast back into memory.
Like all memories
There are a thousand useless,
The umber of old blood, trodden underfoot,
the seconds that dripped by unmarked.
But we hold the fragile, happy few,
High upon a shelf
the glowing phosphorus of laughter
The currant red of a last kiss
Returned to and returned to
Like an unanswered prayer.
Wandering into night's embrace,
The moon will guide your way
As you look up to the sky,
See the trees begin to sway
You're following a feeling
You can hear it in your heart
Though this life is at it's end,
A delicious one will start
Your invitation glows ahead
A brightly burning pyre,
Silhouettes dance 'round it
Howling chants into the fire
Writhing bodies greet you,
Introduce you to this boon
As you step into the circle
'Neath the hanging crystal moon
A sacrament will soon begin
As Writhing forms reach deep within
Souls weave together through inner power
The overwhelming magic of the witching hour

Jennifer DeLong Jul 2021
Tonight , I shall
dance around a open fire
burn the sage
Chant and Dance
Sing to her the mother
Ask for her blessings
for her protection
And she will
answer you
Give unto her your truth
Let her blessing be your guide
Listen to her
As she sings
with the wind
When she rages
fear not the storm
Let her release
her rage is magic
If you stop and feel it
Fear not
In all she does
It's for you and those
who believe
She is truth she is magic
Witch you may say
but let me tell you
That word is precious
Its who she is
its who I've am

© Jennifer L DeLong 🦏
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