Black Magic
Wing of bat, Eye of newt,
Those of skill know I speak truth,
Candles made of human fat,
Spirits will contact,contract,
Laws of magic, snap, react,
Languages spoken, old, dead,
Barely remembered, so rarely said,
Hearing the voices in my head,
Down the darkest paths I'm led,
Few will follow or dare to tread,
For fear is in the hearts of men...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2015
About this poem:
Some dark stuff...more coming...
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