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Winters fingers
Sweat on the ground
Moist all around
Shivering was the witch
Until the mob surround her
The crimes untold
As the woman's wrath unfolds
While the flames ignite
to the crowds’ delight
Her screams echo fuelling the mobs hate
While masking their fate as her soul surrounds them
The forest of death has a witches’ breath
With eyes that see throu...
Wednesday 24th January 2024 10:07 am
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