Has
evil earned a name,
Playing
here a nasty game ?
Who
the hell is left to blame,
If
days would always end the same ?
Covens
of Druid or Wizard folk,
Light
a fire to billow smoke.
Will
it all go beyond a joke,
When
chants of spirits they provoke ?
Witches
cauldrons full of broth,
Unlucky
toads get heads cut off.
And
as it all begins to froth,
Their
voices raise their spells aloft.
It
is the day of all hallows eve,
According
to folklore if you believe.
A
time to act what they conceive,
But
these dark witches give no reprieve.
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