She rotates in the mist that she spins.
He breathes in the mist and lets go.
He embraces her spell; she weaves it so well,
with bindings of silk, she draws him closer.

He's as close as she will come to worship.
He succumbs and she feeds him
like Hansel and Gretel.
The innocent still believe in fairy tales.

Be afraid of this tale, it can hurt you.
She was born as one under a curse;
he was born as one with a hunger
for the light in her eyes and her beauty.

The witch rocks in the corner and hums
to the skeleton wrapped in her arms.
Her charm hid the power that consumed him.
So sad, a gallant lad.
He was a willing victim.

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