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Asher Jul 2020
Those who took much of her
**** her
Forbid her in the smallest measures
They took much of her, rebranding it as they often do
She is everywhere though
She is the breath of everything
She is the gratitude for the smallest of small things
And with the gratitude she brings a connection
She will marry you to this world happily ever after
I decided I don’t like religion (though I respect it, it’s not my thing). Since I’m not Christian, I can learn what I want. Which is how I found out witchcraft isn’t a religion, imo it’s a craft, science, and philosophy. It seems to be in everything. To me, appreciating is witchcraft. Though I’m not pagan I heard in the religion you’re taught to respect each bite or something, so I tried it. I thought of all the work that goes into all I have and how others suffered and how it benefits me. So I decided I want to take all they gave me and use it to help me help others however I can. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more connected or in love. That being said, it is to be taken seriously and if you don’t want to, there’s no obligation. If it doesn’t hurt anyone/anything, why not?
Pyrrha Jun 2020
Everyone loses their way
Lost in their chasmic minds
Lost in their bismol worlds
Lost in their abysmal emotions
Some find a light to guide their way
A melody; a sign; a feeling
Others search for a distraction
Someway to forget the failure and lose the guilt
But for me, Hermes guides my path
Like a soul into Hades,
He always brings me home
Back from my friendly worm named Loneliness
Back from my terrible sense of direction
Back from my endless attempts at self sabotage
He makes me see the truth; the reality; the destination

Everyone is all so full of deceit and corruption
Pleasing themselves by pleasing others
Becoming someone else to be above all others
Blinded by envy and seething with a jealous rage
They hold out their open hands to me
But he whispers in my ear
"It's all a lie"
And I keep my hand down by my side
And watch as they go to the next person
Holding their hands out just the same
And chaining the gullible fools with honeyed words and empty promises
Binding to them now like a contract over their souls
Enslaved to the whims of the corrupt

He has me dream of lands across the sea
Speaking a tongue that is not mother to me
I fall in love with these foreign things
The sights he sends me, the sounds, the smells
All the excitement of leaving to somewhere new
With no fear of the unknown, trusting only
In the path on which he guides me
I see it now, so far away
I reach my hand out and I feel it on my fingertips
I close my eyes and the words slip into my mind
With every phrase I learn, the freer I become
And I walk his path with knowledge I am safe

In meditation he guides me
On a starlit beach I find myself sinking my feet into the sand
Swiftly he approaches with a grin
He holds his hand out to me and I feel at ease
No strings or "you-owe-me's" await
And with winged feet he sends me back
Gently placing me in my body
And I awaken safe and sound
The worm part is a knock at my first poem The worm named Loneliness
Pyrrha May 2020
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 2020
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 2020
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 2020
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 2020
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
Toni Feb 2020
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 2020
"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 2020
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.
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