I saw her one evening,

And I could not stop staring,

For above the ground she was floating,

In the last orange rays the sun was sharing.


It was all happening in the ancient woodlands,

Amongst her favorite flowers that she would gather,

Near the hexed river,

Where even the most courageous men,

Dared not wash clothes nor hands.


For All things in these parts,

Are somewhat connected to her profane heart,

Bound by an ominous craft,

Horrid practices that if told, will leave you aghast.

At this moment, the trees or the wind must have had whispered in her ears!

She pivoted and levitated near,

And I gave in to apologies and tears.


“I am sorry to have intruded in your kingdom of nature!

Please, benevolent witch, spare me your infamous spells and tortures:

I beg you. Do not make my vision blur,

Or my skin be covered in fur,

I want nothing of me to be altered forever!”


Her disturbingly perfect visage showed no emotions,

And she started weaving her hairy arms,

And reciting those backward words that usually harms,

Creating magical, demonic effusions.


It surrounded her and turned her into an abomination…


Now no longer a woman but a beast,

she clawed my body and made of me a feast.


I was stripped from my flesh,

In pain, drifted my consciousness.


But what lastly chilled my soul in horror,

Was that I knew!

I knew she would then use my bones to plague others,

And my Organs for a poisonous brew.

-Beldam, 128 yf


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