There is something in the air no more ice nor vampire lairs The sun rules over night and brings forth all things bright And the flowers greet him with glee all shining and rising among the **** As the maiden smiles to her tummy her child smiles back in the shape of a bunny It's the breath of spring, balance and growth with it brings So let us blossom my dear make our intention and power clear
Merry Ostara to all who celebrate. To those who don't, I wish you to blossom this spring
Cleaning off my altars Cleaning up my act Cleaning up my room Clearing out my mind Working on myself Looking for a reason I don't need one I need to live in the moment Stop worrying Breathe Be the best me I can be I wont stop smoking **** or cigarettes Vaping constantly Won't stop drinking Might stop eating But ****, at least I'll be happy
Its time to get better Goodbye, Athena It was nice, Zeus Maybe another time, Morpheus This new altar is for me
it's raining again. It's been raining a lot lately. I rush outside with jars usually, tonight I sit under and I fill myself up. my hair clings to my neck my face my soul. I close my eyes, dipping myself in and out of the sky's tears in hopes that she'll never recognize the difference if I were to be extracting tears of my own. There will soon be no distinction between me and the wet. catching a breath, I peer up I blink so much I'm surprised I can find the clouds They shield Gaia from the cold I count the stars, though I mistake the majority of raindrops for the plasma. So I tilt down, face to Hell my hair curtains around me as if a cat had torn them into nothing but clumpy pieces of string, and recognize the puddle of a person, through blurry sockets, that I can no longer hide from.
I'm in a weird writing mood. I don't write many long things anymore, though, as we see
Some miracles have happened lately I don't know what makes it happen It makes me almost believe in the lord above Now I'm hoping, soon, your heart will open. Wether it's candles, spells, or crystal magic It's brought me pain, but goodness too I've been happier than I've been some years Now I hope it brings me you
A poem every day 28/7/20
i just got a good mark for my greek test, i'm starting to believe in miracles
The weight of the guilt I have For the things I said about you before you died Sit on my chest Press me to death like a Salem witch. Every time I drink I indulge in my tears That I have no right to; All I cared about when you were alive was vengeance for the way You made me feel, When I should’ve thanked you for opening my eyes And I should’ve looked right through you With open eyes- And seen that you were dying inside. I wrote that you were dead to me, Not intending it quite literally Not wanting for awhile I manifested that for you- I await my witch trial.
To my moon-kissed brothers and sisters Hold yourself high with confidence We are the strongest force known to mankind For we've walked through fires just to be heard We've raced through shadows and sung under stars So we could be free
Come dance with me under the moon As we manifest our dreams Our intentions true Our spells be carried through If it is our will, so mote it be
And when their flames embrace our bones as they vilify our souls and condemn our bodies, we will hum our songs of virtue and light for we walk the path of honest faith with no room for doubt
As they light us up like fireflies upon their pyres, Let us smile to our Lord and Lady, our Gods and Goddesses We will show no fear as they stare holes into our hearts for we have magic in our blood and mystery in our eyes We who dance with demons and fancy the fae Spare no time to those with ill intent and hateful minds
With no fear or worry we are the awakened ones aware to the world beyond and within our own We stand hand in hand with mother nature, with Lady Gaia herself With glory we travel to Valhalla, the Elysian Plains and the Fields of Aaru
They can light their fires to satisfy their hunger for our blood But brave children of the moon, they can never have our valiant courage nor our souls they can never taste our magic or see the astral because we allow ourselves to soar above what can be seen above what we are told is intangible We climb the towers of our minds and rise to our higher selves
We chant our songs like sirens blessed by Apollo We won't bend or break because they call us sinners Sinners in who's eyes? I refuse to kneel to a bloodied faith We will not shatter with their looks of disgust We will not crumble under their evil eye We will kiss the hands of fate and spit in their naïve eyes
We are the blessed ones who tower above the wicked For we are the sons and daughters of the witches they could not bind or banish We are the children of the moon who bow to none We are the ones who will rise like a phoenix from their fires For we are the witches who refuse to burn
Drench the night in suffocating darkness A new moon hides in the void Known only by the absence of stars Protecting souls and releasing dissent Antagonist to the saintly A comrade to the pariah Grounding, banishing, healing Defense against those who wish to fear And exile And hang I will not be fragmented For I am the moon Concealed by darkness Protected by my kind
July 19, 1692 Susannah Martin was executed. Hanged. I was young when I found out that I have witch blood flowing through my veins. Maybe that’s why I have such an affinity for magick. I do not worship satan, I worship myself. I wear black to protect myself from the negative energies that attack me daily. Witchcraft and magick, at least my practice, surrounds positivity, self-help, and respecting the world around me. I am not evil, I am not a bad influence, I am a witch.