She peers into her crystal ball and pricks a pin into her voodoo doll
All the while her ravens squawking at her looming teacher and warlock
Oh what a thrill to hear the trill of neighbors talk
as she dances through the woods with the shock at a girl who wears a continence of I care not!

Running free with her black cloaks making eyes at all the young blokes
casting them under her spell
She burns with power that makes the women cower and devours the hours she spends making men sour
But alone is what she will never feel, as to her that has never provoked any appeal
after all that is why she made the deal
The frenzied winds will never let alone, not even when she is nothing but bones and they live on stirring
her, like them
The calm winds that once slowly blew now carrying her in their tides through
not realizing the pace at which she would be but succumbing to what must now be
and on she must go
As unpredictable as the wind she finds water with a switch
and in that pool she sees a witch, with a stick of pitch
Rampaging through the world demanding what she craves is
by no means the end of what no one will miss
So let her dance through the woods and winds and stab with all the might
her dolls of voodoo

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From Bad Dirt during Winter's Bone and Saved by the Holy Spirit's Redeeming Grace

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