Down in the low basin,
Night owls call for some calm.
Evil whispers are cajoling the forest,
And cauldrons bubble and spit.
Demelza is chanting her incantations,
As the waters begin to boil.
What fury of malice can she allow,
The potion is almost fatefully ready.
Crackling, the light of the fire,
Draws me into a woeful dream.
Responsible behaviour all lost now,
She brings forth her demons.
Shamaz and Ledman are first,
Before the vapours fill the sky.
This night is meant for evil,
I see them spitting on the witch.
Naked she, begins a shameful rite,
Coveting and worshipping the flesh.
Demanding of her late arrivals,
The sating of midnight abandon.
Here in my once enchanted forest,
I’m appalled to show a tear.
For fear it will be mistaken,
As a sympathy to a lusting hag.
But verily the crooked witch,
Has drawn me into her spell.
That I cannot be guiltless more,
For the dark shamefulness of man.
Announce the light, repent the dark,
For we will n’er be spared the rod.
I stumble as I walk away,
For the witch has crushed my heart.