Bewitched

Bewitched

 

The camaraderie of youthful slaves

Uncouth in the warm summer breeze

Fleeing the marked hand of their master’s wrath

As she envelopes the gloom in the blazing sand

 

Rivers of morrow feast on today

But shadows of the past

Bring forth the decay

 

The fortnight of June

As she awakes from her slumber

The thought of her dream

Provokes her to ponder

 

Of what these vile beauties have done to her soul,

She embodies the past, and ties up her womb.

 

Reckless she falls into his slippery glands

When night turns around,

She’s back in his arms.