The cauldron of dark dreams!
Moonlight, magic and witches,
And things, that grow, by the light of the moon,
In forests deep, and roadside ditches,
Like the witches broom,
Mellow moonbeams, guiding hands to pick,
Where fingers fell upon its child,
Between the brush and bramble thick,
Poison mushrooms wild,
Shades of night, hemlocks fruit and such,
Along with poison spiders, toads, and critter,
And night shades child, are plenty much,
All glossed in moonbeams glitter,
Such gatherings bring joy and dance,
Naked by the moons warm glow,
Naked with their broomsticks prance,
Swish them to and fro,
Fantasies of orgies rife,
Invite the devil to their play,
Conjure all things so dark to life,
Exalting him to have his way,
Innocents invite to dine,
Of things they gathered then,
Feed them poison, food and wine,
Of their pasts, not know again,
Imbued with succubus, her vile,
Strange thoughts, first unbeknown,
Now stewing in my bile,
My virile ways have sown,
Hand in hand now dance and weave,
I am victim of this rite,
Enslaved now, cannot leave,
My innocence defiled,
Defenceless to that raucous whim,
To her became a slave,
Knowing she would always win,
Became her nightly knave,
Her daughters too, and all her friends,
Brought nightly visits me,
Only sunlight, hope it sends,
Depravity could see,
Through starlight in my dreams,
There in the Nixes Lake,
That’s where she lived it seems,
First sunlight she would take,
Forsook me now to Satan’s horn,
To poke where he would please,
Abused and tortured by his scorn,
The pain would never cease,
Soon I, descend that staircase down,
To fiery pits and roasting spits,
Soon my smiles would turn to frown,
A Zombie now, who lost his wits,
Through angels hand that I escaped,
That tumult of the rite,
She pulled me from the burning fire,
It was my little Jasmin white,
Such I heard of witches white,
Those that heal, and would undo,
Bring fallen back to light,
And see the light that’s true ,
Satan’s choice I was, for once, or twice,
But surely far too long,
Her love, it showed me all his lies,
And now our bond is strong,
Forever in her debt I am, but whole,
And gladly there will stay,
She always be my heart, and soul,
Gladly her that debt will pay!
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That tumult of the rite,
She pulled me from the burning fire,
It was my little Jasmin white
Sometimes I think the furry angels are the ones who help us the most, and yours sounds truly marvelous.