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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