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Pyrrha May 10
I bought sunflower seeds and planted them in a little *** on my window sill
I watered and tended to the leaves everyday
Every time the leaves seemed sick or browning
I had to hold back tears as I cut away the rot
Is it weak or dumb of me that I cried?
Like witchcraft I cared for that flower as if it were our love
As the leaves would rot so too did our hearts
As the petals fell so too did your love for me
And in every falling petal
Every cut leaf
Every inch of that flower
I felt you grow farther and farther out of reach from me
rk May 1
in the darkness i dance
crimson hair
like flames on the wind,
the moonlight
kissing my skin
wearing nothing
but midnight
i lie in wait,
surrendering myself
to the flames
for from the dark
my love has returned.
- starlight filters through the trees while the horned God chases his Queen.
voodoo Apr 14
even when I was little I had a hard time leaving wounds alone —

the absent-minded uprooting of scabs and the slow flame of revived pain.

to bleed in so many small ways, to be so oblivious to being real.

if only they were tiny sacrifices, tiny offerings to whoever dealt out hurt and sadness, if only they were enough to keep my nose above water.

I find myself lost within four walls in more ways than one.

they say you should smoke sage in all your corners,

smudge its grey into the darkness. they say it puts the past to rest.

I burn leaves and I burn grass and I burn letters and thoughts and touches and it makes me blacker, blacker, blacker.

the remains of grief wait, latched shut in its music box. I can’t bear its singing. I can’t tear this flesh off my bones. I can’t make myself fiction.

but you did. you did and now I fade into a ballad not even worth its weight in the heartbreak it rhymes.

to have sought poetry only to plummet into misery. to have the currency of my decomposing tongue and no concoction of words to soothe the damage.

the rot runs deep. the rot is real. the rot is all I feel.

you’re all the lives kept out of my reach
Marco Apr 9
With the open gates of Babylon
the holy flood poured on and on
through frond-covered stone ways
on grieving Palm Sunday
and the ****** water endlessly rushed
as if turned to wine by Jesus's touch

we were his disciples but behaved like sinners
he walked on water as we took from the rich
the godless romans were quick to condemn us
thus Jesus was crucified for being a witch

they set our stakes ablaze in the night
the darkness enflamed by unholy light
covered our heads with white cotton hoods
and barefoot we stumbled through dusk-silenced woods
we could hear the flames crack like whips in the dark
as they reached for us who were blessed with death's mark.
Pyrrha Apr 6
They were innocent
The ones who walked this path before me
The ones who never did any wrong
Who committed no sin
'Do what ye will but harm none'

They were the ones who loved the earth
Listened to the cries of the wind and the heartbeat of the sky
Saw the dawn kiss the night sky goodbye
And how the moon would watch over them all
The ones who fell in love with all of Earth's mysteries

The ones who loved to heal
Who cherished all life, and wasted none
The ones who saw everything and nothing
Who ran with the rain
And sang to the storms
Who thanked the crops and respected the Earth
The ones who wrote in runes
And spoke in code
To save our craft and protect our herbs

They were stripped of dignity, but not of pride
Dropped into the water but embraced by the gaurdians of the West, resting in defiance on the surface of the sea
They burned their bodies, but not their souls
They wounded their flesh, but not their will
And like a Phoenix, they rose again
Reborn more powerful, more proud

If again we must, again we shall
No longer will we hide our pride
Our symbols, our spells, our rituals, our magic
No longer shall we fear the ones who do not love the earth we live upon
The ones who burned our brothers and sisters out of hate and refused to understand
The ones who slaughter the land and do not value
all the life that exists together
For we are witches who honor our past and rise together as a Phoenix, rising from the ashes of the ones who crumbled so we could soar
wraiths Feb 19
The alchemist stirs the bubbling ***.
Golden fluid swirls in its depths,
like a wheat field at sunrise,
swaying softly.

The scales
of silver fish glint as they swim
beneath the rippling surface.
Flowers flutter from the alchemist's hand
and hiss as they kiss the glowing soup.
The mixture bares its golden teeth
and saliva envelopes pink petals
in one gurgling

A globule or two dribble
down the side of the ***
and a honeyed mist
curls towards the alchemist's nose.
His ancient body breathes a sigh
as old bones clatter
and shiver
in awe
of a longer thread of life.
Toni Feb 11
I often dream of a place
Far from home
Deep in the woods
I’m sure you know.
Away from the people
The buildings
The noise
Where the witches dance
And the fae rejoice
In their absence.
I can’t keep the woods out of my head, I just want to dance under the moon and laze away my days in grassy knolls.
F Alexis Feb 4
"Double, double toil and trouble
Fire burn and cauldron bubble."
You know this rhyme, have heard it prior
But now, hear this - my verse to mirror.

A foolish child, to do such wrong
And string your minions, too, along
Your violent acts, and words of spite
Have earned you this most sorry plight.

The shots were fired, stakes were claimed
With such conviction, smeared my name.
And all for what? So I would leave?
Ah, what a pretty web you weave.

A novice, true, but you did try;
I'm twice as cunning, thrice as sly.
Your dues unpaid, and still you reached
So, let me practice what I preach.

The coven black has since convened
(Your kind is not the first we've seen),  
Determined what the price shall be
You know your crimes, as well as we.  

The modern witch is not betrayed.
What reckoning we'll see this day!
A sickened child, a woman not
Let's mind your place, as you forgot.

You think the eye I've turned was blind?
That I'd not return your work in kind?
Behold, my dear, the rule of three
All that, with nerve, you've done to me

Will come back now, and triply well
In this, my carnival of hell
You've paid admission, in advance
Forfeited hope of second chance.

There is no hiding, though I'm gone.
But I'll allow your victory song.
I possess, you see, your DNA.
And so the distance does not weigh.

The balance calls for consequence,
So new endeavors now commence.
Step right up, come right this way!
You've stirred a game, and now we'll play.

Your god is dead, but devils live
And just when there's no more to give
Again I'll strike, my darkest work
And still again, until you've learned.

Do you believe in magick, girl?
I'll let you peek our secret world.
We know no limits, no restraint;
The power here, not for the faint.
No mercy here, nor bargains made;
Your debt to us will soon be paid.
You still may beg, but per decree
Blood calls for blood.

So mote it be.
Mitch Prax Jan 21
Whatever she creates
leaves me utterly in awe-
every thought of hers
leaving me entranced.
Maybe you have me under a spell,
or maybe this is one big dream.
All I know is that I need
more of you in my life.
Quill Jan 10
Lay me under the night sky and I'll make a home within the stars

I'll find solace in the faint wind-chimes echoing into oblivion

I'll make tunes from the passing cars going 25 through puddles

I'll sing to the rattling of the leaves doing somersaults in the wind

I'll dance to the howling of the wind blowing through the trees and houses

I'll look up into the endless void of the sky and close my eyes

I'll wait for the moon to call me home
I wrote this short poem at 3 am one night when I couldn't sleep.  I let myself listen and feel everything going on.  I let the words just flow through me.  I've changed nothing about it.
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