Toll of the Witching Hour
by Michael Romani

Tell me then, is it treason?
To believe that all must have a reason
There before the witches' fire
While the coven outside spoke words so dire

The Master seeks her most of all
As no other since his immortal fall
The kiss of death like adders in Egypt's sand
Like the evil only the blackest hearts understand

Drawn to her own sad quickening
In a pull both gruesome and sickening
A battle to be the very last
In brittle remembrance of times past

A talisman borne by her neophyte
To protect her from the Master's toll
Now as never, the goodness must prepare to fight
Each in its keeping before this hallowed evening's toll

The time has come to learn such things
As the day walkers once knew
These are only broken things the darkness brings
Herbs and healings soon enough they had outgrew

God, in His mercy, forgives almost all
But the blasphemy that caused the fall
The darkness that grows until complete
Where no amount of goodness is replete

There lays the lesson to the very young
Do not speak carelessly of the Devil's tongue
Or, you too, will lose your very soul
As the Devil enters and takes his control

(c) October 17, 2017  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved

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